Without You
by Hajaley
Summary: How does Tate cope after Violet tells him to go away? He said he would wait forever and he is sure to keep that promise and make Violet love him once again, but how easy will that be? This is the untold story of their aftermath.
1. Chapter 1

So, recently I have become obsessed with American Horror Story. My friend saw a part of it online and thought it would be good to watch, so we gave it a go. Little did we know how weird and bizarre it was going to be. Some moments we had our mouths wide open in disgust. The weird thing was that it was so intriguing that we had to keep watching to see what happened next! Well, there was another reason for why we kept watching...Tate. Yes, I know people are going to say that it's sick to like him because he is psychotic and because of what he done, but at some moments I felt like I could relate to him (I'm not referring to the killings). He loved Violet so much and she shoved it back in his face. A lot of people who have been in love can probably relate to this. Now, I'm not saying what Violet done was wrong because I know that they couldn't have had a happy ever after, no matter how much I wished for that, so this was the only conclusion, and it was beautiful in a heart wrenching kind of way.

So, I decided to write this story as an extra part of the series because I fell in love with the characters and the dark and twisted genre of the show. Where the series ends, this story begins. And before we start I would like to say that, yes, this is a Tate and Violet story so all you Violate fans will hopefully enjoy this as much as I am enjoying writing it!:)

I hoped that in writing this I will be able to get AHS out of head for it is all I have managed to think about for the past few weeks. I have serious exams coming up in school which I really need to focus on instead, so getting this out of my system will hopefully do the trick in quieting it down in my mind just while I need to study, and then it can come back full force, I don't mind.

Anyway, saying all that, I hope you enjoy this story and I will more than appreciate any reviews. :)

_I do not own any of the characters in this story in any way._

**P.S I am not sure how long this story is going to be and I have to warn you in advance I am not someone who writes every single day for hours on end so it may take me a long time to update, but I will try and get this complete because I know how annoying it is to read a story and then the writer doesn't update for years.**

* * *

><p><strong>Without You: This Is Me Without You~<strong>

* * *

><p>Tate didn't know how long it had been since he had last seen Violet. Hell, he didn't even know how long it had been since anything these days. He had lost track of time ages ago. All he knew was that with every passing second the pain that retched against his unbeating heart only increased. Some days it would almost seem impossible to bear and no matter how hard he tried to block out his feelings, somehow they always weaved their way into his mind, the way Violet never failed to. He couldn't get her out of his head, goddammit! No matter how much he screamed, cried, or threw objects around, nothing would patch up the gaping hole that Violet had caused. How horrible it was to be already dead and no matter what you done you couldn't escape. No matter how many times Tate tried to kill himself there was always a way for him to come back, much to his displeasure. After all, how do you kill yourself when you are already dead?<p>

The days seemed endless, each second more intolerable than the next. This was the greatest pain he had ever come across in his life. He felt no remorse for all the killings he had done, only the chocking hold of Violet's words which to this day echoed in his head. "You are the darkness." He sobbed through a laugh. How ironic was it that now he was becoming exactly what she had described him as. Living down in the basement. Alone. In the darkness. Another laugh choked by a cry escaped him. A sound which echoed eerily around the basement for no one but his own ears to hear. A crazy sound which fitted him perfectly.

* * *

><p>Violet's mind battled with her heart. How was it possible to love someone so entirely, yet at the same time hate them with an undying passion? It wasn't normal. Nothing was normal anymore. Some days Violet wished that her family had never moved to the Murder House and she hadn't been the one to encourage them to move in, in the first place. She wished she could go back in time, back to that one specific moment and change her mind and tell them to keep looking for another house. A normal one. One without Tate in. Even though she had banished him she could still feel his presence. She wanted to let him back in so badly, but the constant reminders of the pain and sorrow he had caused her were too great for her to overcome. This was the right thing to do.<p>

* * *

><p>Constance marched through the door, her eyes bloodshot and wet. The door slammed against the wall from the force. "How dare you!" She screeched as she came to stand at the foot of the bed, the way Tate had once before.<p>

Violet's body was positioned at the base of the scruffy, unmade bed, her knees tucked up to her chin which rested heavily upon them. Violet's vacant eyes flicked up to meet Constance's for a second before they returned to the same spot she had been staring at before she had been so rudely disturbed. The anger was clear in the old woman's eyes and frankly Violet didn't want to see what was about to happen. She didn't have the energy to watch the emotion that was about to explode from out of Constance.

"You evil little girl." Constance spat, her body shaking from the force of her seething emotions. "You've ruined him. Completely shattered him in two!" Her mouth was curled up into a vicious snarl as the words left her. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

When the question was left hanging Constance added. "I demand you go and speak to him now!"

Violet snorted and ignored the command.

Constance's nostrils flared and she carried on. "He is going crazy down there. He won't speak anymore. He won't even speak to me, his own mother!" A cry escaped her throat and her hand came up to cover her mouth as tears began to leak from the outsides of her eyes. "After everything I've done. After everything...you are the one to ruin him." She shook her head. "You. A mere girl." She chuckled slightly, crazed at the thought. "I thought it would be the leash the house has on him that would drive him into insanity, or maybe knowing that he is bound to this place, only able to leave one night a year, or even the thought of being dead, but no. A girl. You." She threw her hands up. "I told him to leave you alone. To forget about you and your family and let the other ghosts interfere with your lives, but he is such a stubborn boy. I should have known he wouldn't have listened to me. He never had when he was alive so why did I think he would now that he is dead?" The question was rhetorical, spoken more to herself than Violet. "And just when I thought he was starting to get better...when I thought those sessions with your father had healed him." Suddenly an angry shout left her mouth. "Do you not even have the decency to look at me while I talk to you?"

Violet didn't look up at Constance. After everything, why should she follow instructions from the woman who had created the one thing she hated most at this moment? Not that it was entirely Constance's fault for the outcome of Tate. Maybe he had always been crazy. Maybe there was nothing she could have done to prevent his insanity and either way he would have turned out the same way he was to this day, but a part of Violet couldn't help but blame Tate's actions on Constance. Right now it seemed like a very plausible idea and that was why she refused to follow the imperative commands Constance threw at her. Maybe, if she asked rather than demanded she would listen, but with the kind of attitude Constance was giving off, Violet was certainly not going to listen.

The silence only grew and it seemed along with it so did Constance's rage. She moved a step closer to the bed and grasped the edge leaning forward as if to advance her height and intimidate Violet. "This is your fault."

That caught Violet's attention. Her eyes moved from the spot she was staring at and looked up into the eyes of the woman trying to blame all of Tate's wrong doings on her.

"Tate did this to himself." She replied coolly, her mouth pronouncing the name she had sworn she wouldn't say again.

Constance didn't know how to respond to that. Her mouth opened but then closed again, rethinking her words. Her nostrils flared and her mouth flattened into a straight line before she spoke. "My son is a boy of many talents," She started, her tone one which implied she wasn't willing to accept any arguments. "And yes, I admit he is one of many imperfections too which may be his own responsibility, but you haven't exactly helped him overcome those errors have you?"

Violet raised her eyebrows, insulted and shocked. "That's not my job. As his mother don't you think you should be the one helping him with his problems?"

"As his girlfriend don't you think it is your responsibility too?"

"I am _not_ his girlfriend." Violet bit out evenly.

"But you are the one he loves and if I am right in saying so, you love him too."

Violet shoulders raised in a quick dismissive shrug, ignoring the last part of Constance's sentence. "I never asked him to fall in love with me."

"And I'm sure Tate never asked for it either, but the heart wants what the heart wants regardless whether it will do the person any good or not."

Violet thought this over for a moment, a frown covering her face. She stayed quiet for she knew it was true. Neither she nor Tate had ever asked to fall in love with each other yet it had just happened.

Constance's stare was unsettling and Violet fidgeted on the spot, adjusting her legs into a more comfortable cross legged position. Her back rested against the hard metal of the bed and her head laid back against the wall, openly looking at Constance after she had decided to make eye contact.

Normally, Violet admitted the woman didn't look too bad in her old age. Her eyes were still quite youthful, despite approaching dark marks that came with older age, and considering Constance's past and current dilemmas, Violet thought she was aging fairly well. She was usually quite surprised that a woman who had gone through some many things in her life was still quite as radiant as Constance appeared to be.

Today though, something in Constance's face looked different, tighter and more withdrawn as if she had frequently skipped out on a couple of meals over the last couple of weeks. Violet didn't know whether it was because of the stress of emotions which affected her in this way, but her generally glowing skin looked paler and gaunt around her cheeks. Her eyes appeared flat and dead, no spark to lighten up her already dark browny orbs. Not only was it her face that had lost its youthful exterior it was the hair that framed her face that had also fallen flat against her skull. Her once fluffy, snowy white, delicately styled strands was messy and hung around her face in a way Violet had never seen before. Constance took interest in her appearance so it was unusual for Violet to see her so bare and scruffy.

"Look, I haven't come up here to expect you to forgive him, Violet. I just want you to talk to him." Violet waited for more. She still hadn't been told a proper reason to why she should do what Constance was asking of her. As if answering her mind Constance said "Make him see sense. Try to save him from the despair he is going through this very second."

"No."

Constance's head jolted back by Violet's harsh answer. She knew Violet wasn't a soft, weak, or overly compassionate sort of girl, but she didn't realize she would be so harsh. That angered Constance.

"Why not?" She bit back, her tone ringing with authority.

"After everything he has done do you really expect me to help him just like that?" A smirk made its way onto Violets face as if she couldn't believe just how stupid Constance's was being. "You cannot be serious."

"I am very serious. If you don't have the heart to go down there and help him then I thought very wrong of you."

"I don't care." Violet reached forward and grasped an object which lay between her bed sheets. She pulled it up onto her lap and fiddled with a pair of headphones before placing them in her ears. "Now if you don't mind I have things I need to do." Her thumb pressed play and she settled her head back against the wall, not that it was one of the most comfortable positions, but it would make do for now. The music started to play for a couple of seconds, vibrating nicely into her eardrums, before it was suddenly cut off and she felt her earphones be tugged violently out of her ears. Violet's eyes flew open just in time to see her beloved iPod smash into the wall and drop with a "thud" to the, thankfully, carpeted floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" Violet screeched up to Constance who was staring down at her with wide, seething eyes.

"You vile girl." Her long nail pointed accusingly at her. "How can you be so blind? Tate needs help and he needs it from you!"

"It is not my job to be a therapist for your own son. My dad tried that himself and look how that didn't help."

"It did help! Don't you see? You are the one who made Tate go crazy again. He was fine before you went and broke his heart."

"Bullshit." Violet laughed out. "You really think those sessions helped him? You really think I was the one who turned him back to being crazy?" Another laugh escaped her. "The sessions never helped him, Tate never got better, and I wasn't the one who turned him that way. He has always been crazy," Violet paused "And deep down inside you know that, so you go around trying to make up excuses or reasons for his insanity just so you don't have to take the blame yourself, but I will not be blamed for something that isn't my fault. I may have broken his heart, which on the contrary can turn you slightly crazy, but not crazy to the extent that Tate is. This is his own problem that neither I, nor you, nor any bloody therapist, can fix!"

Constance stared at Violet, her nostrils flaring at times when she disliked the words that Violet spoke.

"If you really wanted to help Tate then you would just accept him for how he is and move on; there is nothing you can do." Violet pushed herself up off of the bed and went to move around Constance, but a hand shot out and grabbed Violet's arm jolting her back roughly.

"Get your claws off me!" Violet growled angrily at Constance whose grip only tightened in response. Her nails dug painfully into Violets skin bound to leave behind raw indents when she let go.

"I'm not finished with you yet. You go down there and talk to him now!"

Violet pulled roughly out of Constance's grip. "Crazy bitch!" She screeched as she moved quickly from Constance and over to the other side of the room where she picked up her ever so slightly more battered iPod. She rubbed her arm while she went, trying to soothe the skin where Constance's nails had dug into, and was relieved when she saw her iPod still in full contact. The shiny back had a small chip, but it was barely anything considering there were already numerous scratches adorning it. "You're lucky you didn't break my iPod otherwise you'd be paying to get me a new one." She clicked on the screen just to test whether it still worked before giving Constance a glare.

Violet moved back to the bed, this time making sure to get in the side opposite to where Constance was standing. She perched herself on the edge of her bed and grabbed a book off her bedside table before flicking through, making sure to ignore the only other presence in the room. The book was the same one she had been reading the night Tate had declared his love for her and the thoughts made her mood drop even lower. Pictures of birds filled the pages as she turned them over attentively. When she turned back to the front to pull out the piece of card with the people names on that had checked out the book, her eyes sought out the only name she was interested in seeing. The card slid out easily and there scrawled in his familiar, original hand writing was Tate's name. She stared at the name in awe and slowly ran her fingertips across the writing relishing in the fact that he too had once held this book in his own hands. His skin had touched the corners of the pages just in the same way hers were doing now. It was hard to imagine. A small sigh left her.

Constance knew Violet wanted her to leave, but she wasn't going to give in. Her head rose slightly with the new determination that flooded through her and she quickly tried to abolish the anger which had taken over her body. It was clear Violet was not going to be so easily persuaded into talking to Tate and Constance nearly gave up right there and then, but something held her back. Some small voice that nagged at the back of her brain telling her to stay in place and plead Violet one last time because it knew otherwise she would regret it later. Her hands hung loosely at her sides as she watched Violet look through the book her son had always loved picking out from the library before he had died.

He had always been interested in birds ever since he was a little boy and she remembered the times when he had run squealing with happiness around the garden at the birds flying above his head and into the trees not far off from the house. The memories were ones Constance truly treasured. Those times had been happier, when things had been simple and more enjoyable. She remembered his usually pale cheeks used to be rosy and flushed with the new excitement of these new creatures with furry wings that he was discovering. The love he had held for these creatures were evident in the sparkles of his warm, chocolate, baby eyes as his tiny outstretched hands pointed up to the birds above.

Tears warmed Constance's eyes some way through her reminiscing and before she knew it one had leaked over the edge and was falling smoothly down the curves of her cheeks, dropping slowly like a fallen leaf gliding to the ground. She didn't know exactly what had brought it on, either the memories of Tate as a child or maybe it was the sense of emotions that hit her because she suddenly realized just how drastically her life had changed over the years. Her husband had cheated on her resulting her to killing him, her children were dead, and one of them was a psychotic ghost, trapped in the house for all eternity, suffering in the darkness of the basement for the love he longed for from the girl sat right in front of her. Tears duplicated in her eyes before following the path of the previous droplet. A sob broke from Constance's mouth as she stared at Violet and the book, the memories serving to be too much for her to handle.

"I don't know where everything went wrong." She admitted out loud. "All of his beauty to be wasted by the cruelness that fills him inside." Her words were about Tate. "Why, does he have to be a monster? Why can't he make use of the potential he has been granted with?" Her head shook as she spoke. "What did I do to deserve this? I never did anything wrong... Never committed any sin before I got pregnant so why have I given birth to such children?"

Violet heard the words, but her eyes stayed trained on the pages of the book.

"I need him Violet." Constance whispered. "I need my Tate. I know sometimes..." Her voice waved and she took a deep breath to steady herself. "Sometimes I don't show concern like other mothers do, but I do love him. I really do." Her voice broke on the last words.

Violet was not moved by her words, neither was she affected by the amount of emotion that laced Constance's tone. Her eyes lifted to stare neutrally at Constance's face, watching while the woman tried to get herself together.

"If you have any decency left in you then you will at least talk to him. Please Violet I beg of you...and I never beg anyone!" A droplet fell from Constance's eyes as she laughed, an unhappy sound, at the stupidity she felt by having to resort to begging. She had never begged in her entire life. "I know he hasn't been the best person in the world and I know that I never really showed affection towards him, but he is my son and I love him. I don't want him to suffer for eternity."

The room was quiet, still, as Constance stared at Violet, yet she didn't move. Sobs racked Constance's chest at the answering silence of Violet. "Please...He is one of the only things I have left." She whispered "I've already lost my beautiful Addie...Don't let me loose him." A heart breaking noise left her throat and she dropped to the floor like a pile of bones, crashing onto her knees which were unable to support her now frail body. The waves of emotion flooded her, the feeling of hopelessness. Desperation. Despair.

Violet watched as the woman's body sunk and then clasped the edge of the bed as if in search of something to hold onto for some kind of support. Her fingernails, Violet noticed, were dented, the paint starting to etch away in need of a redo. A sense of sympathy did manage to seep into Violet at the sight that presented itself before her. After all, Violet wasn't totally uncaring and the display of grief and suffering did pull slightly on the strings of Violets heart. It was clear to see that Constance was telling the truth and this wasn't some kind of selfish act or a favour she was accomplishing for Tate. This truly was what Constance was like when she showed her true emotions.

"Okay, okay." Violet sighed softly trying to quiet Constance's cries. She got off the bed after closing the book with a quick snap and walked around the edge to view the crumpled mess that was Constance. She bent down until her head was at Constance's height and stared into her eyes. "I will try," She started. "I can't promise anything or say that I will be able to forgive him... but I will try."

That was all Constance needed. The answering smile that Constance managed to give did little to make Violet feel any better though. She now had to face Tate and that was truly going to be a big test on its own.

* * *

><p>Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Hopefully Chapter 2 will be on its way regarding there is anyone who wants to keep reading...let me know:)<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited or put this story on alert! You don't know how much it means to me! Thanks so much:) Hope you all enjoy this Chapter.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2~<strong>

* * *

><p>Violet's footsteps echoed as she walked down to the basement, her combat boots creating a loud, intrusive sound. She tried to soften her step, but it only caused the stairs to creak more as she eased her way down instead. The light from the door she had left open did very little to brighten up the basement, so walking over to the light switch she flicked it on. The lights flickered on then off once before pinging to life. The room lit up with a harsh glow, the majority of the space brightened by the shine, only the corners still painted in the shadows.<p>

It had been ages since Violet had last come down here, but she could still see that everything was the way she remembered. The storage boxes on the shelves, the backroom where she and Tate had scared away "the coke whore", and the place where Tate had once sat with her and told her the ghost stories about Charles Montgomery. It was funny thinking back on it now and how much had changed since then. No longer was she as afraid to come down to the basement, of course the dark still freaked her out slightly, but she thought it was a bit pathetic to be a ghost herself and be afraid of it. After all who had ever heard of a ghost being afraid of the dark?

Violet thought she might have encountered Tate as soon as she switched on the light, but the basement was quiet and empty. It was just plain freaky in all honesty and she moved forward a step to edge herself to look around the corner which lead into the other room. Damn, she should have brought a torch. The back room was darkest, the light unable to reach as far in. Violet didn't like to think about what type of ghost could have been watching her from in the dark while she stood there. She didn't let herself dwell on the thought and kept on with her search for Tate.

"Tate?" She whispered, barely audible, scared to make any loud noise. No answer. She walked towards the back room, standing in the doorway bracing herself in case something jumped out at her. The room was mostly engulfed in darkness so she had to squint to try and define the shapes in the back, for all she knew one could be Tate. There were some shapes that she could muster up. Large boxes were stored near the back and a couple of chairs were thrown towards the far wall. Her eyes followed around the room until she reached the far right where an outline of a shape sat leaning against the wall. She moved a step further to see the shape clearer and kept walking further into the darkness to investigate.

"Tate?"

...

Tate never heard the basement door open; neither did he see the figure which came to stand in front of him. A soft whisper reached unhearing ears. His legs were tucked up to his chest, his chin resting on top of the jeans. His arms were wrapped around his legs protectively as he rocked slightly on the spot. Another whisper he heard faintly and this time he realized that it sounded similar to the way Violet would have spoken. It was the same warm ring that her voice held, but he couldn't have been certain. He was so used to hearing her voice now and most of the time it was just his imagination playing tricks on him, teasing him cruelly. He had finally grasped the idea that her voice wasn't actually her and had come to learn to just close his eyes to savour the sound of her voice while he could.

The words this Violet spoke were unclear and slightly hazy, ones he was unable to determine within his fuzzy mind. He hummed slightly, almost purring to himself when the voice got louder as if she were right there in front of him, close enough to touch.

"Tate." Her voice spoke and he grinned. He wanted to speak back, to answer back to the angel of his imagination that took on Violet's voice, but he couldn't find his tongue. "Tate." The voice repeated this time louder and more clear jolting him slightly from out of the cosy place which was his mind. He stopped smiling, humming and purring, and just sat still, waiting, listening for more. The voice had sounded so real that it was unfair. Why was life punishing him so badly? Wasn't it enough to know that she was somewhere in the house without him...Completely fine with him rotting away in the darkness.

"Tate!" This time there was anger to the tone of her voice and he chuckled. He remembered when she got angry at him. It was cute.

"Please don't be angry with me." He pleaded weakly. He just wanted to savour these moments while he could and he much would prefer her to speak softly and sweetly to him. If this was all he was going to get he wanted it to be a nice thing to look back on.

"I wouldn't have to if you would look at me."

There was no mistaking the words or how realistic they sounded. They were so realistic that his eyes shot open. At first he thought he was still alone because it was so dark, but as his eyes started to adjust he could make out a shape, an outline of a figure stood in front of his form.

"Vi?" He breathed anxiously, his voice so unsure even her name didn't sound right on his tongue.

"Hi." She replied and his heart stopped. "Do you want to come into the light a bit more?" She asked gently. "I have to talk to you and I need to see your face."

His heart tripled in beat. She was really here. With him. Now! He was so dazed that he forgot how to move for a second. Her figure started to walk away and he started to panic before he saw her become visible in the light. Oh, she was so beautiful. He had forgotten just how beautiful she really was. His eyes scanned her body eagerly taking in the image he had already scared into his brain.

Just like a zombie he shuffled forward and rose to his knees before advancing to his full height never once did his eyes advert from her. He didn't move out from the darkness though, he didn't want to let her see him. Not like this. Not now.

Silence.

"Tate?" She inquired and his heart jumped at his name being called from her. "Can you come forward a bit please?"

"No." He whispered.

"Why? Please, just a bit."

He grimaced, but obeyed her command like a small child. He moved some more, until there was a soft glow on his face. He wasn't stood directly in the light, which was good considering he hadn't been exposed to such brightness for months and the sudden change would have been shocking and maybe slightly painful, but it was enough, he hoped.

Violet moved forward when Tate did. He hadn't shifted so she could see him clearly, but what he had done was enough for now. The top half of his body was easy enough to see; only a soft light was cast over him, but the bottom was still cast in the dimness where objects cast shadows over him. Her eyes forced themselves to look at his face and she sought out his dark orbs until she found them a midst the darkness, staring straight back at her. Butterflies fluttered uneasily in her stomach as she waited for his next movements, either he was going to go crazy for her leaving him or he was going to break down and cry. Sometimes he was so hard to read that she wouldn't be surprised if he surprised her altogether and gave her a mixture of both.

His hands twitched beside his top, but they stayed stationary and limp. Violet noticed that his eyes were black, so very black, and she didn't know whether that was because of the shadows or what the basement had done to him. Somehow the darkness had seeped into him and it showed clear in his midnight depths. He really suited the part of the dead ghost right now.

They didn't say anything to each other while they gazed. Tate couldn't form the words that were littering his brain and Violet was too shocked by how dark his eyes were to make any other coherent thought. They looked like a pair of brainless fish, gaping with theirs mouths open at the sight of each other.

Violet tried to regain her composure by shifting her weight and looking down so her hair fell like a curtain around her face. The blocked sight helped her think clearly and she licked her lips to moisturize her mouth. What was she supposed to say to him now? How have you been doing? I've been told to talk to you? Neither of them seemed like the right conversation starter, especially after what they had both been through.

Tate continued to watch Violet. Why was she here? He thought she hadn't wanted to see him again or did this mean she had forgiven him? His heart leaped at the mere thought of her forgiveness and he smiled to himself in hopefulness. Her hair was hiding her face as she if she was scared for him to look at her and her act of shyness helped fuel his confidence. His fingers itched with the need to walk up to her and run his fingers through her fine locks, to feel the softness he once knew, but he knew better than to act on his instincts and stayed in place.

"You're here." He whispered to her.

Her head looked up slightly.

"You're really here."

"Yes." Her reply was short and nothing compared to what he was hoping for, but the tiny whisper of her voice sent a hundred electrically flowing currents throughout his body.

"I missed you." He admitted before he could stop himself. His mouth was speaking on its own, feeling the need to tell her his thoughts even if he didn't really want to. Later, he would probably come to regret these words and punish himself for not having made most of the time and said the things he really wanted to ask.

She didn't reply to that, not that he thought she would have, but still there was a tiny part of him that had hoped for her to have felt the same way and reply in the same affectionate tone he had announced it in. When his statement wasn't returned back to him that part of his being crashed to the ground and broke into tiny pieces. Obviously she wasn't here to forgive him after all...

He went to speak again, but this time he managed to get a hold of his mouth and clamp it shut before he uttered anything else out. He wanted to hear what she had to say instead of being the one to do all the talking.

Violet didn't say anything though. Tate didn't look in despair, in fact, he appeared just fine. What was Constance's going on about? Now that she was down here with him, how was she going to say goodbye again? She was an idiot! How was she going to get herself out of this situation? Hadn't last time been hard enough? She mentally scolded herself while she stared at him, her eyes flicking around the room so she could look anywhere apart from at him.

"I shouldn't have come." She whispered peering at him one last time before spinning suddenly on her heel and running from the room. She could hear him shout loudly behind her and heard the frantic scurry of his feet come after her. Adrenaline kicked into her body and she squealed as she reached the bottom of the stairs and started to ascend them. She could hear him right on her tail and felt as if she was in one of her nightmares and the bad guy was just about to catch her. Before she could reach the second step a hand wrapped around her arms and dragged her back against a hard chest. She screamed from the hot clamminess of his skin, the burning fingers that held her too tightly against him, and the arms which were strong and inescapable, restrictive and insistent as she struggled.

"Violet stop!" Tate commanded beside her ear, his voice holding a tone of surprise at her sudden need to escape from him. "Stop struggling!"

Her arms were trapped at her sides by his own which had wrapped around the entire width of her body, easily maintaining her much smaller form. She felt herself get pushed back forcefully against the wall, not painfully, but the push had enough force to leave her slightly winded. Violet's eyes were wide from fear when she relocated Tate's face and what she saw shocked her. Tate's eyes stared into her own, red, puffy and still just as black as before. There was something different about his face. He looked ill, gaunt similarly to the way Constance had. He looked startled, wide eyed and bloodshot around his pupils. Thick black marks underlined his eyes and his nose was red and sore. Violet's struggles stopped.

"What have you been doing?" She whispered. Her hand slowly slipped out easily from his arm now she had stopped fighting him and came up to touch his face where a couple scratches had left dried stains of blood trailing along his cheek.

Tate flinched slightly when she touched his skin, a shiver cascaded up his spine, jolting his whole body. His eyes slipped closed and he leaned into her hand the way a cat would to its owner. Her hand felt like heaven on his cheek, she was cool and soft and with her here in his arms he felt more alive than he ever had for a long time.

Her fingers trailed along his cut and down to his chin and then back up again. Goose bumps rose upon his skin from her touch and his eyes lazily opened to look at her. She was inspecting his face attentively, not stroking him with tenderness like he had thought, she was examining his wounds. His eyes widened after realization struck and he flinched away suddenly and banged back into the opposite wall letting the darkness mask his face from her view.

Violet's hand stayed outstretched where she had held his face and dropped it by her side after his sudden movement. She advanced with suspicion clear in her eyes. Tate startled like a wild animal as she neared and slipped past her figure and further into the dark as if he was hiding something.

"Tate, why are you running from me?"

"I...I don't feel well. You might catch what I have if you come any closer, please stay away."

He was always a liar. In this situation not a very good one.

"Bull."

"Violet, please."

"What are you hiding?" She advanced on him quickly and pulled him towards her roughly. His face caught the light again and she got a second inspection of his face. Red, bloodshot, watery eyes, dilated pupils, increased breathing, increased temperature, gaunt face.

She let him go and stepped back. He wasn't...he couldn't be?

"Are you high?"

His mouth opened and he pulled away from her and retreated into the darkness.

"Stop hiding." She demanded advancing on him again. "What the hell have you been taking?"

"Nothing. Nothing!"

"Stop lying to me." She gritted out. "I can see it in your eyes."

"So what? You've done it before."

"No, I smoke. I don't get high, there's a big difference Tate."

"It's not like it's going to affect me anyway, I'm already dead remember?"

Violet sighed and looked down. Maybe he was in need of help more than she had thought after all.

It wasn't the problem that he was doing something illegal that Violet was objecting to, after all the police would never find them anyway and it wasn't like they could get into trouble for anything, they couldn't leave the house. The reason she was so upset was because she cared about him, she didn't like to admit it out loud or to herself really, but she cared for him way more than she would ever let anyone believe. He was still alive to her and while they were both here she didn't want him to violate his own body. He had been the one to tell her to stop cutting so there was no excuse for him to take the drugs.

"Where are they?"

"What?"

"The drugs, Tate. What else?"

"Why? What do you need them for? I won't let you take them instead."

"I don't want to use them myself, I don't want you taking them anymore."

"You can't stop me." He sounded like a stubborn teenager. Now, she knew what Constance felt like.

"Tate, please. I don't want you to keep hurting yourself like this."

"I'm not Vi. It's good, they are good." He grasped her arms and shook her slightly. "They help me, you know." He released her and dug his hands deep into his pockets. "They keep me sane."

Violet's eyebrows rose. He really felt that way? "Tate they are doing the complete opposite, they are making you more insane. Do you even know the side effects of drug use?"

"You get nauseous, dizzy, hot... I know the effects, but it helps me in a way you wouldn't understand."

Violet sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "You didn't like me cutting, I don't like you doing this. I stopped for you, now you have to stop for me."

"This is different."

"How?"

"You were being selfish, I'm not."

"What?"

"I'm taking this to stop me from coming after you. There may be a few selfish reasons for why I take them, but it helps me get through everyday without the burning pain that you are alive without me, without anyone. I already tried to kill someone for you and you didn't want that and I know that if I sit here all day thinking about where I went wrong and how I can fix it I will end up doing something which will upset you even more. This way it stops me from doing something you will hate me even more for."

"Oh, Tate." Violet shook her head. He always had these crazy plans. "It wouldn't make any difference. There is very little you can do now that would make me not like you even more."

His face dropped. Her words may have sounded pleasant, but Tate picked up on the true message behind her words. There was nothing worse that he could do to make her hate him even more. He'd already done everything possible.

His face screwed up and his eyes watered. "Vi." His head dropped and he sobbed. "I'm trying to do the right thing. Really I am."

Violet watched him pitifully. "I know." She whispered. Her hand reached out to grasp his own. "Where are the drugs?"

His watery eyes locked with hers. His hand reached into the pocket of his jeans and he reluctantly pulled out a small plastic bag.

"Don't take any." He warned.

Violet warmed at his show for concern. "I won't." She promised as she took the bag into her own hands and shoved them into the pocket of her cardigan. "Thank you."

They stood in silence before she moved away.

"Where are you going?"

"Upstairs. I have things to do."

Tate stepped into the light and the painful expression in his eyes was obvious. "Don't leave me."

Violet looked down. She wasn't going to fall for this. "I have to."

His teeth gritted together as if he was dying to say something, but he thought otherwise and looked away.

"Goodby-"

"Don't." He cut in. "Don't say goodbye. Goodbye implies you're going away for a long time and you're not." His tone was harsh. "Stay with me?" It wasn't supposed to be a question, but it was a lot less powerful than before and came out as one. He sounded almost scared now. Afraid of the rejection she was going to give.

"I can't."

A tear rolled down his cheek. "Violet..."

She started to walk away when his arm wrapped around her and pulled her back for the second time.

"Please, not again." He wailed. "I need you. Please...please!" He rolled his head on her shoulder as he clutched her to him. "Without you I don't want to live. I need you in my life, with me, Violet."

She pulled away, but his grip was tight and slightly painful on the skin underneath her cardigan.

"Tate, let me go."

"Never." He whispered.

"Tate-"

"I will always believe that there is a second chance for us. Never will I give up on you." His voice was coated in devotion and a never ending promise.

Violet pulled ruthlessly out of his grip and when he turned for more she shoved him back. "Well keep believing that because until the day you prove to me you deserve to be forgiven for everything you have done, I don't want anything to do with you." Violet didn't know where her harsh words had condensed from, but she knew this was the only way to ward him off again.

Tate stepped backwards as if her words had physically pushed him away.

"You don't mean that."

"I do. Don't think I came down here because I forgave you. Constance wanted me to help you."

The mention of his mother's name caused something to spark in him. His fists clenched and his nostrils flared in agitation.

"That was the only reason you came down here?"

"...Not the only reason, but the most part of it." Violet advanced towards the stairs and sensed him follow her. "Leave Tate."

"I won't give up." He promised her, his voice inches behind her ear, determination clear in each word.

Flashbacks of her parents death flashed in her mind when she heard the cry of a baby far off somewhere in the house. Her anger sparked as she remembered what a cruel creature he could truly be and how he had destroyed her family.

Spinning around to face him she declared "Well maybe you should." And with that she stormed up the stairs and this time he didn't try to stop her.

* * *

><p><strong>There you go! Be sure to leave me a review, they help fuel my creative energy and inspire me to write quicker. Chapter 3 is in the making, keep an eye out. :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for the favourites and reviews once again! Sorry this one is a little later. It's the end of school and the homework's starting to pour in...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3~<strong>

* * *

><p>"I told you I done my best!" Violet was sat cradling a mug of tea in between her hands while Constance paced the kitchen in front of her.<p>

It was clear that the two females weren't getting on due to the amount of sizzling tension that radiated between them. Violet's eyes glared daggers into the back of the woman's white blouse.

"Well it obviously wasn't good enough."

"Well excuse me. I never promised you anything, remember? I only said I would try and I done that so lay off." Violet was mad. Very mad with the way Constance thought she could treat her. She always strolled into the house as if it were her own and started demanding people of things. Why couldn't she do her jobs herself? Lazy bitch.

"For the last time Tate will only listen to you. He is stubborn as you know and he is never going to do as I say so you have to keep trying."

"What more could I possibly do? I took the drugs away from him, which for a start will help clear his mind and make him easier to talk to, but I doubt there is much more I could do that I feel willing to go ahead with." Violet stared into the creamy mixture of liquid in the mug and watched it as it swirled around delicately.

"Forgive him. That's all you need to do."

Violet glared up at Constance. "_You've got to be kidding me_" was written in her eyes, even in her facial expression.

"Just tell him you forgive him. You don't actually have to mean it."

"I'm not going to lie."

"Why not? You've told many before."

"Not to him."

"So?"

"I don't bloody want to!" Violet kicked the chair back with a loud scrape and exited the room, mug still in her hand. Constance followed. "Piss off; I don't want to talk to you." She spat to the woman following closely on her heels.

"You are just scared." Constance said. "Scared of the feelings you still have for him and frightened of what you might do if you see him again." Violet spun around. "You still have deep feelings for him, I can tell. And one day you are going to have to admit that, even to yourself."

"I feel nothing for him not after what he has done."

"It's written in your eyes, your love for my boy." Constance's fingers came up to stroke the smooth skin of Violet's face. "Oh, bless your soul for falling for him." Violet could only stare. "You're the only one who can save him." She whispered. "His love for you is stronger than I ever imagined and his redemption can only be made through you."

Violet pulled away when Constance brushed her hair away from her face like a mother would a child.

"I'm not going to force you." Constance admitted. "But I want you to help him. I don't care how, but just help him."

"Who says what I do can ever help him?"

"Because it's the power of love and Tate relies too much on it. His emotions are always the things that keep him grounded or make him loose his normality. If he can't grasp the feeling of love you give him, he will try to reach a high through the drugs and who knows what kind of crazy thing he will end up doing when that happens. Take the school shooting as an example. The drugs affected him in that way. He couldn't stop."

"I'm sure he could have. He didn't need to take the drugs in the first place. Everyone can get better on their own; they just need the willpower to do so."

"And that's what Tate lacks. Willpower. He has none. He needs guidance, like a young boy. His exterior may be of a teenager, but really, deep down, he is an innocent. You need to teach him how to be strong, that's what is so compelling about you. Your strength."

"I'm not that strong..."

"Considering what you have been through you are. You're a very level headed girl and Tate's brain doesn't function like yours. He never was strong in the first place otherwise he would have never started to turn out the way he has."

"You ever thought about why he has turned out like that?" Violet's tone was accusing. Her eyes challenging Constance.

"Maybe the loss of his father wasn't the best way for him to grow up, but it's the way life went."

Violet was silent. There really wasn't anything she wanted to say. Nothing that Constance would listen to anyway.

"I'm going to leave you now." Constance said while she looked at her watch. "I won't bother you anymore about him. I will leave the rest up to you to sort out." She turned on queue to leave when Violet panicked.

"Wait!" Violet shouted her voice louder than she had anticipated.

Constance turned, her eyebrows raised.

"What happens if I don't do anything to help him?"

Constance shrugged with a sigh. "I guess it will be like it always was before. But...you're not that type of person. In the end you will break, they always do."

Huh? "I thought you said I was strong?"

Constance grinned. "Not strong enough to hold out forever."

...

Tate stayed in the basement. He wanted to leave, but every time he came to the bottom of the stairs which led up into the house something held him back. He wasn't sure whether it was because he was too afraid to leave the place that had been his safe haven for months or whether it was because he knew that on the other side of that door was Violet. Whatever the reason, it kept his feet on the ground unable to step any further.

He sighed as he sunk to the floor for the fifteenth time after pacing back and forth. It was tiring, draining. He didn't know what to do with himself. Not since Violet had taken the drugs away. He wanted to make her proud so he didn't try stealing them back because he knew it wouldn't get him anywhere and he knew he was better off without them. The drugs had been something to fill the time with and something for him to get lost in and drown out his feelings. Without that it was harder to accept and overcome those feelings he had tried to hold back for some time now. They were painful and choking, but he put up with them because he knew he deserved every single ounce of pain he was feeling.

He had finally decided, as much as it pained him, that he was going to let Violet come to him. He wasn't going to the one going to her. If she really wanted to see him she would return and until then he was just going to have to wait it out. He wanted her to come back to him because she wanted to, not because she felt guilty, or was forced, or just because he wanted her too, it had to be because she was unable to live without him. Tate shook his head at his stupidity. He knew he was going to be waiting a long long time.

...

The hours turned into days, the days turned in weeks, the weeks turned into months. The Murder House was starting to become, ironically enough, dead itself. The ghosts were either miserable or upset in one way or another. There wasn't a spark of happiness in the house, well apart from the rare squeal from the babies, but other than that the house was full of weeping ghosts, mourning over their lost lives.

Violet tried to spend more time with her family, but there were only so much of them and the new addition to the group, her baby brother, that she could endure. Even though his face was cute and she liked to hold and play with him it didn't clear the fact that this baby possibly belonged to Tate. It was sickening just to consider her own step brother sharing the same genes as her ex-boyfriend. It was too messed up. Even for her.

Her hours were spent lying on her bed, listening to music, reading or writing. Her music never seemed to bore her; always a song to fit her mood and the books gave her a sense of freedom. She could lose herself for a couple hours inside of the fictional worlds and characters the author had created. For once she could just imagine that she wasn't part of some sick fictional book herself and read something which took her mind off of her own problems in life and pretend she was normal again.

The books did little to stop her thoughts slipping back to Tate though. As much as she liked to persuade herself that she wasn't in love with him, there was no denying the topic of her thoughts. He just seemed to pop up at any given second. The most simple things would remind her of him. The black chalkboard on her bedroom wall where he had scrawled TAINT across it, the characters in her books that fell in love, the shower tub every time she chose to wash, and her baby brother. They all reminded her one way or another about Tate. The house as a whole was a constant reminder considering she actually slept in the same room that once had been his own. There was no way of escaping him and she felt herself slowly loose her own sanity and slip into the world of insanity. If she couldn't live like this for a couple months how the hell did she expect to live like this for the rest of eternity? The thought made her faith in anything fall and break as easy as a twig getting snapped in half. There had to be more than this...There had to be.

* * *

><p><strong>I know this chapter was boring and short, but I felt it was vital to build up the tension between the characters and Chapter 4 will be up in the next of couple days given I get on and finish it, so stay tuned for more action soon! Tate's coming back in the next chapter, yay!<strong>

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Just warning to anyone who isn't fond of blood, but this chapter is fairly graphic about issues to do with cutting so if you don't like that kind of thing I would advise you to skip past it. And, for that reason I am changing this fiction to an M rated.**

**Also, when it gets to the part where Tate and Violet are sitting in silence you might want to listen to the sound of rain on a YouTube video. It is really relaxing and helps you imagine the feel of the atmosphere. Give it a try:)**

** www.(youtube) watch?v=QXoJb8p_HG8&feature=related - This one is really nice. Just remove the brackets and you should go straight to the video.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4~<strong>

The rain splattered loudly against the outside of the window as Violet sat and watched without an ounce of interest. Bored. It was a rainy Tuesday in February and still the coldness continued from the harsh winter they had encountered.

It had been half a year. 6 months since she had last seen him and nothing had changed. Time could have stopped for all she cared and she would still bloody be here. She hated the house. She hated everything. Life wasn't worth living like this. The days were never ending and every single thing she done now was becoming mundane and tedious. Nothing was special or different. It was the same bloody thing, every bloody day.

When she had been at school all she had wanted was to have endless amounts of free time, but now she had it, she realized that there was a limit on how much she wanted. This was not what she had envisioned when she had dreamed about what it would be like.

"Fuck!" Violet cursed as she dropped the glass that she had been holding in her hands and it crashed to the ground and shattered over the hard wooden floorboards.

Her feet were bare and an unseen shard of glass entered her foot as she tried to step away invoking another profanity to leave her mouth. Taking careful attention not to step on any more astray remains, she stepped away from the debris and sat down on the floor to inspect her now bleeding foot. With it hitched up on her crossed leg, she tried to bring it closer to her face for inspection.

The glass was sticking out of her foot and luckily was large enough to be pulled out easily. A drop of blood trickled down the skin of her foot once the shard was out and she watched mesmerized as it trickled down her skin leaving a rich blood colour in its trail. The droplet continued downward and then gracefully dripped onto the floorboards. Her eyes blinked once, twice, and as if coming out from hypnotism she snapped back to reality and wiped the blood away with the hem of her dress. The dress was dirty anyway, what would a small amount of blood do?

The rich colour faded into the green fabric of her dress and she sighed in frustration when she saw smaller pieces of glass embedded deeper into her foot. Her nails dug like a pair of tweezers into her skin as she tried to pinch the shards out, but they were too deep and she wasn't in the easiest of positions to precisely pick it out.

Violet gave up with another huff of irritation and ignored the small stabbing pain she felt when she placed her foot back onto the floor.

Now, on her hands and knees, she gather the scattered pieces the best she could before sweeping them into the bottom of her dress like a bunch of berries. The glass shone from the bedroom light she had had to switch on due to the dull, grey of the rainy sky outside, and she watched for a second while they sparkled in the florescent lighting.

She grasped a particular large chunk of the glass and rolled it over in her hand feeling the smoothness of the surface and then the rough and jagged tip. Her finger came down gently on the tip of the shard and slowly added pressure to test the sharpness. When the pressure got too much, a small gasp left her mouth as it pierced her skin leaving a prick of blood in its place.

Her mind wandered to when she had cut and she wondered why she had never of thought of using glass before. It was such a sharp object and guessed it could cut easily through her skin if she applied the right amount of pressure. She vaguely wandered what it would feel like to feel the glass against her skin and her fingers itched when the familiar sensation, which she hadn't felt for ages, began. She hadn't cut in a long time, ever since Tate had made her swear she would never do it again, but things were different now, and her rebellious side grinned with mischief as her eyes bore down at the glass grasped in her grip.

The first cut she made on her wrist was small and light, only causing a minor amount of blood to rise to the top. She pressed harder the second time round and grinned when then the familiar rich, red colour returned. She gritted her teeth as she forcefully pressed harder on the glass and it started to cut her skin deeper and the blood started to gush out.

A cold hand suddenly wrapped around the hand which was applying the pressure to the cut and lifted it away forcefully causing the shard to fall from her hand and clatter onto the flooring.

"What are you doing?" His voice was calm behind her. It sounded as monotone as if he had just asked a simple question instead of having caught her whilst cutting.

It surprised her at first for she thought he would be mad and her heart accelerated, her eyes stayed downcast on the three cuts she had left indented into her skin, still producing blood.

"Not much," she answered just as casually. She peered up to him, a looming shadow of his figure casting over her body. He hadn't sounded angry, but he sure looked it. "What are you doing here?"

His angry stare flickered away briefly, another emotion clearing his fury, but then he concealed it again and replaced it with the same angry look he had been wearing before.

"I thought I told you to go away? Tate, go aw-"

"Don't!" His hand shot out to cover her mouth, preventing her words to form properly and ending her sentence with a mumble of incoherent words.

She shoved her elbow back into his stomach roughly, and he fell away winded.

"Get off me!" She yelled at his figure sprawled across the floor.

He looked up at her, surprise in his eyes. She slid back along the floor away from him, her back now facing the wall so she could see him clearly.

"Careful!" He scolded her when she scraped her leg across the pieces of glass which she was still yet to put in the bin.

The glass that had been in her lap was now in a pile on the floor where she had been sat.

They stared at each other. Both waiting for the other to move first.

"I thought you had stopped cutting?"

Her shoulders shrugged and she broke eye contact.

"I thought I told you to stop?"

"You can't tell me what to do Tate."

"You promised me."

"You'll get over it."

Her hostile tone made him flinch backwards and he watched her while she screwed her hand up into her fist and more blood rose to the surface of her cuts.

"Don't," he scolded her again and moved forward to stop her from harming herself.

"Do not touch me," She commanded when he moved to help.

"Violet, I need to help.'

"No, you don't. I don't need your help."

"Vi-"

"What, so it's alright for you to go taking drugs, but I can't do this?" She held up her wrist to exaggerate her point and he grimaced when he saw the blood running down her arm. His fingers itched to help her, but he obeyed her wish and stayed put.

"I'm not going to argue about this again," he said calmly.

"Fine." Her arms crossed like a stubborn child and her head turned away from him to stare out of the window, which was still getting pelted by the rain.

The sound of the rain against the window was nice and soothing, and had Tate not have been there, she would have laid on the bed and closed her eyes, but with him in the room, she didn't feel comfortable enough to close her eyes. She didn't trust him enough.

She knew it would be easy enough to tell him to go away and he would be gone without any choice, but she suddenly realized that she wanted him to be there. She craved the company of someone her own age and liked the feeling of having someone else in the room with her. In all honestly she had missed him, but never would she admit that aloud to him.

Tate stared at her face as she tried her best to ignore him and appear as unaffected as possible. It was amusing and irritating to him how hard she tried to hate him when clearly she didn't. She still pushed him away when they both knew she wanted the opposite. It was clear in her eyes when she stared at him. It had been clear the instant he met her gaze a couple of minutes ago and noticed the way her eyes had lit up for an instance when she saw him looking down at her.

His hope had risen with that look and he was happy that he decided, after all this time, to come up and see her. It was lucky he had when he did. He hated her cutting. It was a bit of a hypocritical thing for him to say, he knew that, but she had lovely skin and he hated to see her ruin it with scars the way she did. The cuts she had created today would eventually fade due to the way her body repaired itself now she was dead, so that helped calm his annoyance, but there were still the remains of scars from previous times she had cut before she had died. They would never go. They would constantly be on her skin. And the one thing he didn't understand was why she wanted to cause herself more pain? Surely, it didn't help her? Did it?

His lips twitched and he wanted to say something, but he thought twice and stayed quiet...

An hour passed and they were still in silence in her room. Violet was now sitting on her bed, reading, while Tate sat on the floor mutating between watching her face, and the cute little expressions she made as she read the book, and staring at the window and the little droplets that cascaded down through the others until it reach the bottom and sprayed out into a massive long line. He was happy enough to just sit with her. That's all he asked for. For now...

…

Tate scrutinized Violet as serious concentration lines etched their way into her forehead while she frowned as she read, and every so often her lip would upturn slightly as she read something to her amusement. It was cute and he was happy just watching her.

Another half hour came and went.

Violet was laid backwards on the bed. Her head positioned comfortably amongst her pillows, her hair sprawled out behind her. From this angle it was hard for Tate to watch her and he moved silently to a standing position and stretched his arms above his head before moving towards the bed. He had been getting a numb bum anyway and it felt good to stand instead of sitting on the hard, cold floorboards.

Violet's eyes were closed. Her breathing was soft and even, and the book she had been reading was laid flat down on her stomach, still open on the page she had last been reading. Her lips were the perfect shade of pinky red, and the way they pouted slightly made him want to lay his own against hers and steal away a kiss. Of course, he didn't, and remained standing and staring.

"Are you going to watch me all day or actually going to join me, stalker?"

Tate jumped at her voice and gave a weary, sheepish smile. "Ugh, sorry. Join you? You mean... on the bed?"

One eye opened to look at him. "Where else?" She demanded and he smiled sheepishly again.

Her eyes went back to being closed and he slowly lowered his weight down onto the bed with her.

Tate laid rock solid, frigid on his back. He stared upwards at the white painted ceiling and listened to his rapidly beating heart. _Oh, how he had missed her. _She was laid on the left hand side and he on the right, their bodies almost touching, mere centimetres apart. He could feel her body heat from where he laid, and had he wanted to, he could touch his own skin against hers. Hand to hand.

Violet's breathing was quiet and gentle, each breath a soft "whoosh" of air as it left her nose. Tate listened to it and matched his own with hers until they fell into a comfortable pattern, which made his eyes droop.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Violet asked softly, not bothering to open her eyes.

Tate turned his head to look at her. "What is?"

"The rain." Her eyes opened and she smiled, a genuine smile that caused his heart to melt.

"Yes," he agreed smiling back, but her eyes were already closed again.

"Sometimes, I just like to lie back and clear my mind while it hits against the window. There's just something about that sound that feels so...so..." She searched for the right word.

"Soothing?"

"Yeah...soothing. It's like the voice of your parents when they told you a bedtime story or the hum of your favourite lullaby that got played to you when you were younger. Even though it's cold and wild out there, you feel warm and safe inside. It's like there is a new freshness in the air that helps cleanse your problems away."

Tate smiled to himself at her analogy. Her understood exactly what she meant. "I agree."

She didn't say anymore and a ghost of a smile was on her lips when he looked back over at her.

"Vi?" He inquired gently.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. For everything, truly."

"Tate don't. Not now."

"No, please just let me finish. You said that it feels like a freshness is in the air and I want to get this out so I can try and start new with you."

"Tate, I'm not ready to hear it yet."

"Vi-"

"No. Don't ruin this moment with your excuses. Just don't." Her words were harsh and when she saw Tate's hurt expression she added a soft, "please."

He nodded once and remained silent.

"We can get to all that another day," she said after a couple more seconds. "I am too tired to argue now. Just enjoy the rain while it lasts."

Tate sighed softly knowing fully well that she hadn't forgiven him, no matter how much he wanted to think that she was starting to forgive him, he knew she had a lot more things to say.

He gave up fighting with himself for the day and closed his eyes to match her shut eyelids. And together, side by side, they both gave into their frazzled emotions and let sleep overcome their weary and tired bodies.

* * *

><p><strong>Anyone want to read on?<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

Finally managed to fnish another chapter! Yippee. Sorry that's it has been a month, but I have been super busy at school and hope this chapter is enough to make up for it.

I really like this chapter. It was very interesting to write! Hope you enjoy:)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>~

By the time the lights of the morning came in past the pastel coloured curtains and Tate and roused himself from sleep, Violet was already gone. He knew it would be too good to be true if he woke up to see Violet lying beside him.

The empty space next to him was left tousled from where her body had been resting and the bed covers which used to be neat had been dislodged from her movement throughout the night. Tate realized that even though Violet moved a lot in her sleep it had been the most peaceful and well rested night of sleep he had had in a long time.

He stretched his tense muscles as he sat up and let out a long, satisfied groan.

The rain had stopped now, and in its absence had left the last drops of the water splattered against the window frame which were now shining in the starts of the morning sunshine.

As Tate made his way downstairs he saw Moira cleaning and watched as the old woman dusted the bookshelf more thoroughly than he thought was needed. He felt sympathetic for her. She was trapped here alone forever with nothing to do except clean.

One time when he had asked her why she kept on cleaning she had replied that she liked to do it, but Tate knew that the real reason was because it was the only thing she could fill her time doing. Unless there was the baby to look after then all Moira done was clean. What a pointless existence, he thought, but then again everyone's existence in the Murder House was pointless.

As Tate emerged into the kitchen he caught the glimpse of Violet as she walked out of the door, her golden hair flowing down over her back. He went to say something when she turned around and caught his eyes, but before he could get his works out she was gone.

...

He didn't see her for another four days after that.

The rain didn't come back and neither did Violet. Every so often he would see her around the house or in the garden, especially on particularly sunny days when she preferred to spend her time outside. He could relate to how she felt. He loved the outdoors too, but these days he limited his time to the house. Somehow it made him feel saner, which sounded so stupid considering the house was the one thing that made him insane in the first place, but inside the house he didn't have to deal with hearing the rest of the world live their lives while he was trapped inside. He didn't like to watch the people walk by oblivious to the hell he was going through. It only made him gloomier than he already was.

When Violet finally did show up it was she who came to him which was as much of a surprise to Tate as it appeared to be to Violet herself. She entered her room, which he was sat in staring out of the window, and the expression she displayed on her face held ones of surprise and confusion as if she hadn't meant to walk into the room. No matter her shock she didn't verbalize it and took on a look of hardness.

"I'm ready to talk." She spoke evenly. The words hitting him hard as the panic flooded through him. He gulped , but nodded.

She took a seat on the bed placing her hands neatly in her dress.

They could hear the baby crying in the room next door and Violet looked towards the door.

"Let's go down into the basement." She said.

Tate didn't like the sound of that. That was the place he had just moved out of and now she wanted him to go back down there. He swallowed yet didn't complain and lifted his body from the side when she got up to open the door. He followed her in silence.

When the door of the basement was closed and the rest of the murder house's noise was cut off from them, Violet started to speak.

"I don't really know where to begin." She admitted. "There are so many things I need to say. Too much..."

Tate stared at her. "Maybe I should start then."

Violet didn't try to disagree and when he saw her look to him it gave him the signal he needed to begin.

"I'm not proud of the things I've done. I hate thinking about everything I have done wrong. Everyone...everyone I have hurt...or killed." His words were heard to say out loud. "But," He gulped. "...but everything I have done, there was a reason for it."

Violet sputtered. "What...what!" She couldn't believe what he had just said. She thought he was going to beg her to forgive him for everything he had ever done wrong. Not try to tell her that what he done he done for the right reasons. "You've got to be kidding me?"

He shook his head. "You have to understand why I did what I did."

Violet frowned and shook her head in despair. Her lips tried to find her words, but she was truly speechless. "There...there is nothing to understand Tate! How can you even think that there is good enough reason to account for everything you have done?"

"I was helping."

Violet was speechless again. He really was fucked up. There was no hope left for him after all. If he thought that he had valid reasons for killing people then he was already far beyond saving.

She shot up from the wall they had been leaning against. "You're despicable!" She shouted, her voice echoing around the room and causing Tate to jump. Her mind couldn't function properly and she felt as if her blood was beginning to boil under the pressure she was starting to feel.

There were too many emotions and thoughts going around in her mind to comprehend. She couldn't deny the love she felt, but then again couldn't settle the amount of disgust that came along too.

"Tate, for everyone you have ever hurt or inflicted pain upon, I wish you could feel just how deeply you have hurt them. I wish that for every innocent life you stole you feel the heartache and misery you put their family through. And for the time when you raped my mother, I want you to feel the insanity and violation that you made her feel."

Tate's eyes were becoming puffy and red, his lips whispering the word "no" repeatedly with small puffs of breath as if he had run out of air. "I was helping them. I was helping everyone."

Violet scoffed unpleasantly. "So that makes it justifiable does it? It doesn't matter the reason for your actions, Tate. I don't want to hear your excuses, no matter how sincere you think them to be, it is never right to kill." She turned away and he could tell she was starting to block him out again. "You should stay down here and rot."

A wave of anxiety washed through him as he watched her get up to leave and on the spur of his instincts he leapt forward and caught her arm.

"Violet, please. I thought it was the right thing to do, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" His fingers were wrapped around her arm, preventing her from movement, but not tight enough for it to be inescapable. Her body froze, faced in the opposite direction, when she felt his touch and heard his attempts of remorse.

His head fell down, his neck unable to keep his head held up for the shame which anchored him down. The next words that left him were no more than quiet whispers, words choked out. "If I could take it back, I would. I would take back everything bad I have ever done if it meant that you would forgive me."

She turned to look at him. The look in his eyes was sincere as he stared at her. His gaze pleading along with his words.

"I never meant to hurt you. I've only ever wanted to make you happy. Safe." His bottom lip trembled from the force of holding in his cries, his eyes starting fill up again. "I'm sorry that I am such a failure to you." A single tear ran down his cheek, leaving a wet trail in its path. He dropped to his knees, his already tattered and ripped jeans getting an additional graze to their worn material which they were more than used to receiving.

Violet could only stand and watch. Her anger was still boiling underneath her skin, but the emotion in his voice affected her in a way she never thought possible. Her hands itched to comfort him, to reach and pull him to her body so she could cradle him in her arms and quiet his cries.

The sight before her was not one she liked to look at and the love she had for the boy knelt in front of her, rocking back and forth on his knees in utter despair, was still just as strong as it had ever been before. She was sick with herself for even loving him after everything he had done. For all his sin worthy behaviour, there was always a little voice in her head that gave excuses for his actions, nodding along when he said he had justifiable reasons for his deeds. She knew she shouldn't feel the way she did because she knew that if it had been anyone else she would have been utterly disgusted and steered as far away from that person as possible, but with Tate she didn't want to believe that he was capable of such gruesome things.

She wanted to believe that there were always good intentions behind the horrific things he committed because then it didn't make his crimes seem so bad. And in some kind of sick and twisted way he did have intentions behind his behaviour. Not all innocent or good intentions, she had to admit, but he had purpose for most. Like for raping her mother he had only done it to help make the life of the woman, who had helped raise him, more tolerable. He had promised her a baby and with Tate's corrupted mind helping a woman who he had grown close to over the years was a lot more important than not committing rape. Violet knew it still didn't make what he had done right, no way on earth did she think it was right, but sometimes she had to look at life from his perspective for how was she supposed to understand him if she only ever blocked him off. To fully understand and try to help him she had to first try and establish what he saw the world from his eyes.

Tate's bent head shook as he wiped at his tear stained face. It appeared as if he was struggling. He was trying to pull his act together before he looked back up to face her.

His hand smothered him from her gaze, and skimmed over his face, landing on his lips. It took a couple more seconds before he finally looked back up to her, his eyes now bloodshot and watery. His mouth opened on queue to speak, but he seemed at a loss for words, his mouth quivering like a brainless fish as he searched for the right things to say.

"I've never cared about how anyone else viewed me," his voice was shaky and his breathing shallow as he fought for control. "But with you it's different. You are the only one I have wanted to be proud of me...only you." Blonde locks shook from the frantic force of his shaking head. "I thought I was doing right. I thought it was right...I thought...I thought..." His lips gave into the trembling and his voice left him as sobs replaced his words. Dirty fingernails embedded their way into his matching filthy hair.

A sudden, angry cry tore from his throat and rattled around the vastness of the basement, causing Violet to jump from the loud, echoing sound.

Violet watched as he collapsed at her feet. Cries echoed around the room after being torn from out of his mouth. It was so hard to watch and try and feel nothing. She wanted to hate him, wanted to not forgive him for everything he had done, but a part of her was yearning just as badly for him as he was for her.

And that killed her too. How could she been in a love with a murderer, rapist, and psychopath!

Her mouth started to tremble and then her whole body began to shake.

She had to leave.

Violet left him on the floor and headed for the door hoping she could escape without his notice.

But of course he heard.

"Wait!" His desperate voice echoed. Violet slowed. "Vi, please, please just wait." Her eyes watered with tears and ever so slowly she turned to face him. "When will you be back? You are coming back, aren't you?" His voice was pleading and full of anxiety at the same time.

She looked down to the ground, not wanting to see the hurt in his eyes. "Yeah..." She lied, unconvincingly. If she told him the truth he would never let her leave.

Tate knew exactly what she meant and felt his heart sink. He opened his mouth to argue and plead her to come back again, but knew that it was pointless; Violet would do what she wanted regardless.

"Well," He said his voice wavering. "Can I at least get a goodbye kiss?" He inquired gently. "If I will never see you again then...then just let me have this."

Violet looked at the door. "I have to go, I-"

"Just one."

He picked himself up and advanced towards her. His eyes were pleading; his hands which had come to rest on her forearms were warm against the coldness of her skin. Would one kiss really hurt?

"Tate, no." She shook her head and pulled from out of his embrace. She had to remember she was still angry!

His face crumbled and his eyes formed water. Violet groaned internally, she didn't want to see him cry. It was one of her weaknesses.

"You have to understand," She whispered. "This is just as hard for you as it is for me."

His eyes lifted to hers. "No it isn't." He argued. "If it was just as hard for you then the mere thought of being separated would be too much, the idea of never seeing each other for days after days would kill you and psychically be impossible for you to do."

"Tate..."

"Why can't you just forgive me? I'm so sorry, Violet. So bloody sorry!"

"I know..."

"Well obviously you don't because otherwise we wouldn't be in this situation right now."

"Tate, I know how sorry you are, but sometimes that's just not enough."

His jaw clamped shut, his teeth gritted together. He turned around and crouched down on the floor, his hands pulling at his hair in frustration.

Violet just stood and watched while his hands skimmed through his strands and pulled at his sculpt which she thought looked painful. He started to rock on his heels, back and forth, back and forth, like a child. Sobs sounded out through the basement and she watched his back shake from the force of them.

Her own eyes began to water and she knew that he was waiting for her to go, for her to walk away like she had done last time, but this time he didn't want to watch. She knew she should have done exactly what he thought she was going to do and just say goodbye to him and be gone, but there was no movement from her at all. Her limbs were hung loosely at her sides, her fingers clutching the material of her dress, her feet unable to move. His sobs were hard to listen to and her tears began to stream down her cheeks after realizing the mess he was in.

She moved slowly forward, soundless, her heels touching the floor before her sole did. She walked around his crouched body and circled him until she was at the front looking down at his head tucked between his knees, hiding his face.

She knelt down in front of him, mere inches from the heat of his body and reached out slowly to pull at the fingers that were pulling painfully gripping his hair. Her touch seemed to jolt him and his body froze but he didn't look up. He let her loosen his grip on his blonde locks and let her weave her fingers into his own before sliding them out of his hair and down to his sides. One of her hands stayed attached to his while the other moved to lift his face. He let her fingers brush against his wet, tear stained cheeks and slowly reveal his face to hers once again. His eyes were puffy again, the rims covered in moisture and redness.

"I thought you had left," He whispered.

She smiled weakly at him. "No."

"But-"

"Shh." She hushed him with one finger. Her face descended on his slowly and she gently let her lips press to his.

She could feel his breath hitch as they met, skin to skin, and when she slowly moved her lips over his own he didn't respond for a few seconds.

Once, he realized that Violet was actually giving in and was allowing him to kiss her after so long, he responded back with a fire that had her nearly falling back and off balance.

His lips suddenly ravaged hers whole. His hands grasped either side of her face and pulled her close, clearing taking more from the kiss than she was going to offer. The kiss was demanding and eager nothing like the gentleness she once had found in his affections.

She pulled her face back slightly to ease some of the pressure from off her lips, but like an animal hunting its prey, his lips stayed attached to her and followed her every move, not once breaking their connection. His lips were insistent and forceful, never pulling back to allow her to suck in air through her mouth. She tried to breath from out of her nose, but it was hard while she was concentrating on trying to get herself from out of the awkward situation. Her hands reached up to push at his chest, once, twice, three times, but his hunger for her still didn't seem restored and every time she tried to pull away, his hands were always there to bring her back to him.

An arm snaked around her waist restricting her from movement. Breathing was becoming a problem now and her face was rising a degree in heat due to the lack of oxygen.

"Tate..." She mumbled awkwardly between his lips. "Stop." He didn't seem to hear her, or more likely didn't seem to listen. "Tate!" She tried again slightly louder and this time he restrained himself and pulled back. She sucked in the air full force, never realizing how good it felt to feel air enter her lungs. She pushed him away. Her chest heaving with each breathe she drew in.

"Sorry..." He gasped his own breathing ragged and uneven.

Violet stared at him. At his lips which were now red and swollen after the attack he had made on her. She suspected her own were now red.

They just sat and breathed for a minute, letting on another regain their breathe again.

"I'm sorry." Tate repeated. "I didn't mean to..." He reached out to touch her, embrace her, but she pulled away.

"I have to go now."

Tate's hand dropped to the floor and he bit his lip in restraint to words that wanted to plead her to stay. He wouldn't beg her this time. He nodded and dropped his head.

As Violet ascended the stairs she looked back one last time at his figure and opened her mouth.

"See you soon, Tate." She whispered before opening the door and walking out. Behind her she heard a slight movement from him as her words registered, but by then she had already closed the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for the slow update! I promised I would update this regularly and that is starting to go downhill with longer amounts of time in between each update.

To be honest there are a few reasons why it has taken so long to update...

One- I am beginning to run out of ideas for each chapter (I knew I should have planned the whole story beforehand!) So, if any of you have any ideas which you think would fit in well with the story then feel free to comment on what you think could happen or what you would like to see more of.

Also, please let me know whether you think Tate and Violet's relationship is moving too fast or too slow. Do you think it is about time Violet begins to let Tate back in? I know she is forgiving him slowly, but I have been dragging it out a bit and I'm not sure whether it's time to stop that?

Two-These next couple of months are my final exam periods and I am beginning to realize just how much revision I need to get done in order to get a few of my grades up to scratch. So sadly writing will have to be pushed aside for a while and I'm going to have to let the coursework and revision flow in!

I have a English speaking exam tomorrow which I completely detest and wish there was some way of escaping it, but unfortunately it has to be done, so I'm hoping updating this will take my mind off of it for a while...(Doubt it)

Anyway, sorry once again and I will keep updating just a bit slower.

Have a good week :)

P.s This chapter hasn't been fully edited so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. I shall edit it soon.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter 6~<span>**

She was an idiot. That's all she knew.

After that day with Tate, Violet had cursed herself the minute she left the basement. What had she done? What the hell had she been thinking! She wanted to slam her own head into the wall due to her idiocy. She had actually let him kiss her... No, _she_ had kissed _him_!

Violet still grumbled, angry at her a week later. She refused to go and see Tate again encase she done something stupid the second time around.

Next time she saw him she wanted to be ready and able to resist his tears and the looks of desperation that he wore on his face which tugged painfully on the strings of her heart. This time, she wasn't going to be played a fool.

This morning, Violet's feet clomped around on the floorboards of the attic. She was pacing like she had been doing for the past week now. Every day, when she was deep in thought, she would walk up and down the length of the room. Somehow, it helped clear her mind. It enabled a practical way to relieve stress and get her emotions out; even if all she was doing was stomping around on the floor. The feeling of crashing her feet to the floor in an angry march made her feel remarkably better. It was an amazing feeling and most probably a more effective way of relieving her anger than any pathetic therapy session her father could offer.

The attic had become Violet's home. Her bedroom was a painful place to be. It reminded her too much of memories that she didn't want to recall. Memories of when she had been normal. When she'd been alive.

No one bothered her up here anyway. Now and then, she would hear a faint noise in the corner of the room, but with a quick shout of "go away" whoever had been present vanished, and she would once again be left in peace.

The sun shone through the window of the attic today. The birds were happily chirping in the warm rays and Violet felt in a happier mood than she had all month.

She had grabbed her iPod and speakers from her room and placed them in the corner of the room, and played it aloud so it could boom against the walls. Her playlist played at random all the songs she had on the small electrical device which by now must have contained at least a couple thousand songs.

On this day though, as Violet paced the length of the room, a particular song caught her attention. A song far too familiar to her. The song filled her with a sort of tingling, as if the very sound of the music vibrating out of the speakers had literally frozen her and forced her to remember a particular memory that had been washed in with the beats of the music, and was now, implanted in her mind to be brought up with the song every time she heard it.

Violet remember with a small, quick inhale that this had been the one song she heard her parents listening to one evening in the previous summer when she had stayed up late and sat against the open window to breathe in the warmth of the summer's air.

It wasn't a horrible memory, so she didn't know why it caused her to freeze mid-way through her pacing as the memory take over her body.

Her parents had been in the garden that evening, and Violet hadn't meant to eavesdrop while they spoke. It had just happened and before she could turn around and close the window to seal them with some privacy, she caught the ends of their conversation. They spoke about forgiveness. How they wanted to forgive each other, make amends, and forget their past and try to regain the love they had once had for one another when they had been alive and happy. Their voices were full of emotion. Sorrow lingering within their tones and hints of regret dripping off the ends of their sentences. It struck Violet somewhere deep inside that her parents were so affected. They had never made a conscious effort to show her how broken they were. Obviously she knew the status of how they had drifted apart, but she never realized that since their own deaths in the Murder House they wanted to be a family again.

After a quick shake of her head to dismiss the pang of emotion she felt, Violet had rolled her eyes and snorted in disbelief at her parent's words. Surely, after everything that had happened between them, they weren't going to get back together?

Violet's hands had lingered on the edge of the window unsure on her feelings toward the topic. She knew that she should let her parents discuss without her listening in on them, even if they didn't know she still should have had the decency to not eavesdrop, but somehow she couldn't retreat back into her room and close the window which would cut off the quiet words of her parents discourse. Something kept her clinging onto the side to lean just a bit further so she could hear clearer.

And as the conversation drew on, true to their words, they began to apologize for everything they had done and asked each other for reconciliation which after a small discussion, was granted with open arms.

And that's when they had started dancing.

It had been so sudden it took Violet a minute to realize what was happening. A song had come on, on the radio that was being played quietly in the background. It wasn't a fast nor a slow song, but an equal mixture of both. A nice steady beat that was able to maintain the softness in the lyrics and still keep a certain flare to the song within the tempo. It was happy, cheerful and fitted perfectly in with the moment.

Violet liked the song. It wasn't one she usually leant towards, but this one caught her ear and made her listen more carefully so she could hear the beat.

That night, she had watched as her parents danced together. Her father had lead her mother around the grass in an uneven pace and her mother had let him spin her around as she laughed when he dipped her and then brought her back up to him.

They had looked like an old married couple, one that had been in love for years and were spending an ordinary night dancing with one another. With her mother's laughter drifting up to her open window, Violet couldn't help but smile when her father made funny noises as he spun her around and moved them in a drunken like manner even though he was sober. The sight had even been enough to make Violet laugh out loud herself when they had nearly tripped over one another's feet nearly causing a collision with the ground they both only narrowly missed.

Now, as Violet stood here alone in the attic listening to that same song, she couldn't help but think of those memories and replay that night in her head as the tune floated on.

Violet realized that her frantic pacing had stopped and she had even started to unconsciously sway to the beat of the music as she listened to the lyrics and recalled the evening. A ghost of a smile had made its way to her lips and her feet began to move in time with the music. Stepping forward and back, to the left and then the right.

Her arms lifted on their own accord until they were in the same position she would have created if she was being lead by a partner around the room, the same position her mother had taken while dancing with her father.

Could Tate dance? Was he a good dancer?

The immediate thoughts made Violet stumble slightly and she shook her head to stop herself from thinking about him.

Her feet carried on with the music. She closed her eyes and lifted her arms again. She hummed to herself and smiled as she pretended that her imaginary partner dipped her backwards and then pulled her back up again to hold her close to his body.

Would Tate ever do that? Lead her in a dance and hold her close? Would he dance with her if she asked him too? She knew he would probably do most things she asked of him...

Her feet stumbled again when her thoughts condensed back towards Tate. She had to stop thinking about him before-

Her eyes flew open in alarm when she felt another presence in the room and knew it was too late. She had thought about him too much and now he was here.

Violet spun around, dropping her arms from the pretend man who had been leading her through the dance, and came face to face with Tate.

A small smile was playing on his lips and she knew immediately that he must have seen her imaginary dance session. Her cheeks rose a degree and she stepped away in hopes to make it appear less obvious to why her cheeks were now taking on the colour of a lightly toned rose.

The song was still playing and Tate looked over to the speakers approvingly. "I like it." He said and then looked back up to her and smiled. "It's happy."

Violet realized, due to the sly smirks he held within the smile, that Tate had most definitely seen her dance. Her embarrassment only seemed to flame more brightly, but she didn't dare turn from him to hide her burning cheeks, or cast her eyes away, encase it make her appear inferior and she knew Tate liked being in control. She wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.

He grinned. Tate had most certainly seen her dance. At first he wondered what she was doing as he stood in the corner of the room and assessed her movements from the shadows. Her graceful turning and her delicate footing soon enough gave away what she was doing, especially since she held her arms up as if being held by a man.

Tate knew that his presence was not known to her and the pair of dark eyes that were pinned to her form as she moved, were watching intently as she continued her make believe fantasy, her eyes all the while staying firmly shut.

Violet's arms were an open invitation to him and he had to hold himself back from leaping out of the corner and straight into her arms so he could take the place of the imaginary dance partner. Her dancing was cute and he had smiled as he watched her and listened to her angelic voice humming along with the melody. This was good. This meant she was in a happy mood and it was time for him to make the most of her good disposition and try to spend time with her while she would let him.

Now she had finally felt his presence, he reached out a hand to grab her own which hung limply at her side.

"Would you like to dance?"

Violet looked down at his hand that had grasped her own and then back up to him. His eyes twinkled with hopefulness along with a spark of mischief that glinted deep in his depths causing her eyes to narrow slightly with a wave of anxiety.

Without any answer or objection, Tate pulled Violet slowly towards him knowing that if he done anything too forcefully her walls would come up and she would pull away from him. Even though she was in a happier mood it didn't mean that the defensive and self protective Violet, that he knew all too well, wasn't in there. Tate knew how quickly her moods could change and he didn't want to spark something in her that caused her to block him out again.

Violet stared at Tate when his hand snaked around her waist to pull her gently towards him. He caught the look of uncertainty in her eyes, and frowned down at her. Hesitant and confused.

"What's the matter? You can't tell me you don't want to dance. I saw you just a minute ago and thought you might like an actual partner to dance with rather than an imaginary one," Tate grinned cheekily and then paused as a sheepish look crossed over his features, the boyish mischief disappearing from his eyes. "The only thing is...I have to admit I'm not an expert, so I'm sorry if I disappoint you. I promise to try and not step on your feet." He gave her a dazzlingly smile that left her breathless and then without further notice, began pulling her along with him to the music.

Violet let Tate guide her as if they had done it plenty of times before. His grip was firm, yet not uncomfortable around her upper body, and the hand holding hers in his was strong and secure, not dominating or overpowering. Tate managed to mix enough firmness and power in his hold yet managed to keep a gentle and relaxed attitude while doing so.

And with all of this, Violet didn't know whether she should pull away or actually accept the chance to dance and involve herself more rather than letting Tate drag her along as if she were some puppet. Her feet stumbled awkwardly around the room after his and when Tate realized she was having trouble keeping up, he shortened his steps, keeping them at the same pace but not quite so wide. Her arms were loose and the only strength was in Tate's arms, with her hand beginning to sweat underneath the warmth his body emitted.

Violet didn't know why she wasn't stopping him. It had to be to do with the way his skin felt comfortably warm and secure against her flesh, and the way his body held her close made her cheeks rise to a rosy red. Her eyes cast downwards in a flicker, an act of shyness which she wasn't used to wearing. She was acting like a silly school girl infatuated by a boy! Her mentally scolding demanded her to hold her head high and stare him down.

The song, Violet realized, had just reached the rise of the second chorus, therefore they had plenty more to dance to, and while she struggled to find an excuse to pull away and stop him dancing altogether, the defense of the ending of the song wasn't one she could use.

The twists and turns continued and Violet followed along half-heartedly.

Somewhere during her inner musings Tate had unconsciously slipped his hand down from her upper body to take hold of her waist. The hot imprint of his hand seeped through her clothing, sinking into her skin as if leaving her physically scarred. She nearly flinched away, but retained her actions and gritted her teeth, closing her mouth from protest. As the complaint died on her tongue she realized that he wasn't really doing anything too explicit. It was only a hand on her waist...It wasn't like he had tried anything much cruder like making a grab for her bum.

Tate didn't try anything else. He simply led her around the room in time with the music. He didn't try to dip her or spin, but just let her move with his body close. The feel of her next to him was simply all he wanted.

The smell of Violet's sweet shampoo was filling his senses and he wanted to stick his nose in her strands and inhale her pleasant scent until he was sick of it. Her aroma mixed in with the scent of the shampoo only enhanced the divine aura it gave off. The smell was completely Violet and he loved it.

The music lifted to a dramatic moment of the song and Tate suddenly spun her out before dramatically pulling her back in. Violet's hair flicked around her head and a strand whipped forward to land on the edge of her mouth.

Tate held her rigid against his body and slowly lifted an arm to brush the strand from off of her face and brushing his fingers gently across her cheek leaving her momentarily stunned.

It was a sweet moment. If anyone had walked in on them at that second then they would have assumed that they were a couple. Their dance had been improvised, but was similar to the way a normal couple would have danced. It had been simple yet still flowed with the synchronized movements of each body. Similar to the way her parents had looked dancing to the song...

Violet jerked suddenly, pulling away from the tight hold around her waist. Tate stumbled at the sudden movement and glanced at Violet who was stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Eyes open wide, shock written across her features.

"What's the matter?" He enquired gently.

Violet shook her head and stepped backwards. She couldn't tell him that this is what her parents had done. How her parents had asked each other for forgiveness before dancing to this song.

The reason Violet had so suddenly jerked away from Tate's hold was because she didn't want it to look like she had forgiven him. If it appeared that way then sooner or later Tate would interpret a different meaning from the dance they had just shared. He would start to believe she had accepted his wrong doings and moved on, but that wasn't the case. She remembered. And she hadn't forgiven. There was still so much anger pent up inside of her and she couldn't find it in herself to resume the dance with him as if nothing was wrong.

Dancing had been a mistake. Dancing was something a couple done when they were in love. A way they expressed their affection for one another and showed off their relationship by dancing in a duo as if they were one item. Together. And that was something Violet most definitely did not want Tate to interpret from the dance.

"I can't." She whispered as the lasts of the song rang out and echoed on the final note until there was nothing but silence.

Violet retreated as Tate stepped forward, his gaze perplexed and his hands reached out to offer support due to the fear Violet wore across her face.

"Vi, what's wrong?"

"Please leave Tate."

Tate's eyes widened suddenly, the fear she had seen not long ago ripped open through his features once more. His fear of rejection burning in his glassy eyes.

"No-!" His protests were cut off short as his figure began to disappear, his image fading until there was nothing left in his place. The only remains of him to give proof that he actually been there, was the smell of his cologne that lingered admits the air in his absence.

Violet was left standing alone as the next song on the iPod began to play. A love song.

_How bloody ironic_.

**_"Please forgive me. I know not what I do. Please forgive me. I can't stop loving you..."_**


	7. Chapter 7

Once again, sorry about the slow update, but my exams are officially over for this year! *Starts little happy dance* And now I have 3 months off for summer, so more writing should occur - Hopefully...

Thank you for the reviews because once again they give me the encouragement I need to carry on:)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7~<strong>

Violet found him the next day. Her mind had been going crazy all night and when it finally reached five and she had only two hours of restless sleep, she slid out of bed and made her way through the silence of the house.

It was creepy walking through the Murder House in the early house of the morning, but she knew that there really wasn't much to be afraid. Sure, there were all of the other ghosts, but they were easily avoided after the demand of "go away". It seemed like those words had been the words she most commonly used since moving into the Murder House. She preferred being alone and those two simple words were an easy escape to all the delusional people living amongst her.

Her bare feet padded with soft thuds along the wooden floorboards as she walked through the kitchen and opened the door to let the cool morning breeze float in. It was cold and her arms instantly rose to Goosebumps, but she didn't care.

Violet loved the outdoors. It was freedom in her eyes. No more of the confinement of the walls, but fresh air that smelled as delightful as the bright orange of the morning sky. It was still fairly dark, but the sky worked as a big enough light source to make out the outline of the trees and birds which fluttered noisily between the branches.

Violet found herself a spot underneath the tree to sit. She faced sideways to the house and watched the sky as the colours began to lighten to a slight purple haze.

That was when she saw him. To her right, near the front of the house, he lay on the grass, his eyes closed and his hands lying motionless at his sides.

For some strange reason Violet's insides churned. Her stomach exploded with butterflies as if Tate was someone she hadn't seen in ages and was nervous about their encounter. This was only partially true. She was nervous about their encounter because she had thought a lot about what had happened the previous day. The whole night she had replayed the dance scene over and over in her head and in some ways she regretted the way she had spoken to him. Tate had been nothing but sweet to her and she had ruined it by getting over emotional and pushing him away. Again. Violet couldn't count how many times she had pushed Tate away, yet he repeatedly came back to her, so in this second of instant nervousness, she wondered why she felt so apprehensive. If he always wanted her back no matter what, why should she feel this way?

She noticed that her body was shivering and didn't know whether it was due the cold air, or her nerves.

The old blue dress she had thrown on was dirty and crumpled from when she had worn it last, but she smoothed out the fabric with her shaky hands as she stood and began her way toward Tate's figure. She had to talk to him. She had to say something because otherwise she was just going to grow more anxious until their next confrontation. She was also curious to why he was lying in the grass so early in the morning, but then again, most people would wonder the same about her.

Tate must have not heard her coming because he didn't move when she sat down beside him because the rustle of her dress made a loud enough noise to cut through the tranquillity of the morning breeze.

His eyes were shut and Violet watched his serene face cautiously. There had been barely any times when she had seen Tate's face so calm and peaceful. Sure, she had seen him look vacant, but it was a rare sight to see him look relaxed. This, she realized, made him look a lot younger. His blond hair curled slightly around his face, strands brushing his cheeks making her want to brush them back. His hair was messy, and now that she was closer, she could see he was dirty. Mud marked the bottom of his frayed jeans and grass stained the material at his knees. Her brow furrowed, but she didn't make a sound.

"Tate." She said eventually and even though she had said it quietly Tate still jumped violently at her voice. His eyes snapped open abruptly before blinking rapidly from of the light of the rising sun. His brown eyes seemed lost for a couple of seconds as if he didn't know where he was before he realized he wasn't alone and peered up at the outline of the girl sat next to him

"Hi." He responded quietly. His greeting was croaky and the sound of his voice easily reached her ears.

He wasn't cross with her after all. In fact, he seemed surprised to see her next to him, which in all fairness, was acceptable. Why would he expect her to come find him after telling him to go away? He had all the reason in the world to be confused with her because most of the time she didn't even understand herself.

"Hi." She whispered back. Now that she was next to him and had his attention, she didn't know what to say.

His eyes were bloodshot and for a second she thought he was back on the drugs before he brought his arms up over his head and stretched with a groan. She realized, with sudden understanding, that he had been asleep.

Thinking back it made sense for him to have been asleep, after all he had been breathing calmly and deeply, and he had looked completely at peace. Tate never looked peaceful when he was awake. There was always some sort of emotion on his face, those of which, never being peace.

"Sorry for waking you," she said quietly, resting her head onto her knees that she had drawn up to her chest for warmth.

"It's fine."

They sat in silence, Violet with her head on her knees and Tate still laid on the grass staring up at the sky. The birds were tweeting and the only other noise was the occasional sound of a vehicle from the road. The sky was turning the most beautiful Violet colour and Tate stared at the colours in awe as the white fluffy clouds moved overhead.

"The sky's beautiful." Tate commented, more to himself than anyone.

Violet turned to look at him, then saw his gaze, and looked up.

"The colour is Violet," he stated, smiling at the irony of her name being the same.

She couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I know."

Violet unfolded her arms from her knees and slowly leaned down in the grass, her head next to Tate's so she could stare up at the sky with him.

"Is this okay?" She whispered quietly, making sure she wasn't interrupting his privacy.

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be? I always enjoy your company."

Violet looked to her left so she could look at his profile. He was still staring up at the sky. Not wanting to meet her eyes.

"I couldn't sleep last night," she said, playing with her hands that rested in her lap. "I couldn't stop thinking about...our dance."

She was still looking at him and this time his eyes darted over in her direction for a second, but his head didn't move.

"Oh," he whispered. "And what did you think?"

Violet sighed and looked up at the sky, hoping to draw the same brightness which she saw in the clouds, into her tone. "I wished I hadn't been so hard on you. I over reacted after the dance..." Her voice trailed off as she picked at her nails, suddenly nervous.

"It's fine."

Tate wanted to be mad at Violent, but somehow he never could be. Whenever she done something to hurt him there was always a part of him that instantly forgave her the minute he laid eyes on her again. He had tried to hate her, to forget her, but he just couldn't. At the end of the day he was the one who needed her, not the other way around, and parts of him hated that. For once why couldn't she need him?

"No, it's not. I am sorry. I just didn't want to give you the wrong impression. I didn't want you thinking that we were together by us dancing. I didn't want you thinking I had forgiven you. That song, the one we danced to, was one my parents danced to...and it just brought back some memories..."

"I know, Violet," he said in a gentle tone. "You don't have to explain."

She shook her head. "No, I do, because I'm tired of pushing you away."

Tate snapped his head to look at her. She could feel the weight of his glare on the side of her face, but she didn't dare meet his gaze for she would be scared at what she saw.

"I done a lot of thinking last night and I realized that being in the murder house is an extremely long existence to have by yourself. I know I have my family, but most of the time I can't stand them and I need someone my own age to hang out with." Her eyes finally met his when she turned her head sideways to judge the look on his face.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I want to be friends." She held her breath while she waited for his reaction.

After a moment of silence Tate finally whispered, "Are you serious, Vi?"

Violet nodded positively.

"Because...I mean...there have been so many times when I thought you were on your way to forgiving me, but you-"

"I never said I would forgive you. I just want to be friends."

Tate stalled and looked down to avoid the look of disappointment reaching his eyes. "Fine. There have been times when I thought you were about to become my _friend_ again only to end up with you shutting me out and pushing me away again. Every time I seem to get my hopes up, you manage to crush them twice as hard as before."

"I mean it Tate. This time I do."

Violet's hand came down off of her lap to rest on the grass beside Tate. Whilst doing so, her hand accidently brushed his and the couple of seconds that they were touching, she felt how cold his skin was.

"Jesus Christ Tate, your hands are freezing!" Violet complained jerking her hand away from his as if he had hurt her.

"Sorry," he apologized moving his hands onto his lap and covering them with his sleeves.

"Why are you so cold? Have you been out here all night or something!"

"Yes, actually."

Violet blanched as her eyes widened. "Are you serious? Why?"

"The birds." he commented looking over at the trees.

Violet frowned as she followed the direction of his gaze. He noticed her expression and smiled.

"The birds, I like them. They sing and it's relaxing." He smiled, his eyes shutting again. "When I can't sleep, and my mind is racing, the only way to make myself relax is to get fresh air and listen to the birds." He breathed in deeply, a pleasant sigh escaping on the end of his exhale.

"But isn't it easier to just open a window?"

"Sometimes," he shrugged. "But last night I had to relieve my stress somehow."

"So you came to lie in the garden?"

"No. I ran laps. Around the garden."

"What!"

Tate smiled again at Violet's reaction. "It's my way of dealing with emotion rather than turning to drugs." He shrugged with a motion of his shoulders that caused his skin to brush against hers briefly.

"So you run rather than taking drugs. That's good I suppose, but I'm not sure you should be doing it in the middle of the night."

"Well I do it when I can't sleep. I don't force myself to run if I'm tired."

"When did you start?"

"Running?"

"Yeah."

"It's been about a week. I read it online somewhere that exercise helps you release endorphins which help you feel good so I gave it a go. And you know what?" he turned to look at her again. "It worked," he grinned at Violet and her lips upturned into a smile.

"That's great, Tate."

"It also helped me fall asleep. I mean...I did begin running at 1 and didn't stop until 4, so I guess eventually I would get tired, but I'm just happy it worked, God knows I've tried loads of other things to make me fall asleep."

"Wait, you ran for 3 hours nonstop? In the middle of the night?"

Tate nodded.

"How did you manage to do it for so long?"

"I told you I couldn't sleep and I had all this energy from stress and anger which I needed to release. It turned out that I had a lot..."

"Wow, that's hardcore." Violet chuckled and when Tate heard her bubbly laughter, he joined in. How long had it been since he had last heard her laugh? It was one of the best things that had happened to him all month.

As her laughter ended and they both returned to watch the sky, his eyes snuck a glance at her face, slowly assessing her emotion and puzzling over her sudden change of mind.

"What brought this on?"

Violet looked over at him, confused. "What?"

"You know...you coming to sit with me, asking to be friends?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, breaking eye contact as if she felt guilty over something. His stomach began to drop. Something wasn't right.

Tate waited for her to continue, but her eyes were back on the sky, her lips clamped shut, refusing to say anymore.

"So, that's it? We're friends again, just like that? No catch?"

"Yeah." She breathed, her chest heaving a sigh. "Well...there are some rules."

"Rules? What kind of rules?"

Violet looked at him, her gaze strong. "No romantic involvement."

His face broke and his heart felt like it had been stabbed. "But, Vi, you said..."

"What?" She snapped rather harshly when she looked at him again.

"You said you loved me."

Violet felt like all of the air had left her lungs. He still remembered that? It was true, she had said it, but that was straight after her mother had given birth and she found out Tate had raped her mother and in all honesty she hadn't meant it. She would admit her feelings were strong for him, but love? Violet didn't believe that what she felt was love...she refused to feel love for him.

"Tate, I...that was so long ago and a lot has changed."

"What are you saying? You don't love me anymore?"

Violet turned from him to avoid his dark eyes which held so much pain in them. She couldn't handle looking into his eyes while they held that amount of emotion.

"I don't know...I just think that we need to be friends. Just friends."

He wanted to object. To scream at her how much he needed her, but when he opened his mouth to say something he shut it tight again before the words escaped him. Was he going to plead her to let them be together romantically if she didn't want it? No. Was he going to force her to be a part of his life if she didn't want to be? Well, maybe, but right now she was agreeing to be friends and that was better than her never seeing him, so why should he complain?

Tate bit his lip as he thought. He would never get to kiss her again. To feel those smooth, red lips pressed against his, or to feel delight in the way she felt as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled at his hair when it started to get a little heated. That rule excluded all of that, and a part of him ached for it so badly. Would he be able to not do anything romantic towards her if he agreed to just being friends? Would he be able to except her wish for friendship and ignore all of his urges he felt for her? Was he going to be able to do that all for her? He wasn't so sure...

"Are there any other rules?" He asked hesitantly hoping she would say no, or just laugh at him and say the whole rule thing was a joke, but her face was serious when they made eye contact.

Her eyes shone beautifully in the morning light as she looked at him and he couldn't help but want to run his fingers through her golden strands that partially fell across her face.

"No touching."

Tate frowned for an instant thinking she had somehow read his mind, but then realized that she was stating another rule.

"At all? Even if our fingers accidently brush when we sit together?" His fingers moved purposely to brush against her thigh and Violet gasped slightly.

"Well...if it is an accident it's acceptable, but I don't want you purposely touching me."

"Why?"

Violet blinked, surprised and startled that he had asked. She thought he was going to instantly refuse and complain demanding she reason fairly with him.

"Well...because we are friends."

"Friends can touch each other."

Violet winced at how sexual his comment could seem and she didn't know whether he had known that there was two meanings behind that one sentence. His eyes gave away no sparkle of mischief and she refused to be the one to bring up the underlying sexual meaning it could have.

"Yes, but after our previous relationship, and for your sake, I think touching, on any level, shouldn't be allowed."

"Do I not get a say in any of this?" Tate asked. "What happens if I have a rule too? Are you the only one making them up? Or am I allowed to state a rule?"

Violet blinked again from shock before stuttering slightly on her words."Err, sure, of course..." She was hesitant about what his rule was going to be.

Tate smiled, "Good."

Violet waited, but he never said anything more. "Well, what is your rule then?"

"Oh, I don't have one yet. I might need a while to think, but it's nice to know I have a say in this." He grinned slowly, almost evilly.

Her eyes narrowed at his tone and expression, but she didn't comment on it.

"So, you accept?"

"Being friends?"

She nodded and watched his face as he debated.

"Okay," he agreed. "Just friends."

Tate consented even though he wasn't sure the 'rules' were going to be kept. He didn't want to believe that Violet didn't love him and they were 'just friends'. His brain worked in mysterious ways and now he was going to use that to his advantage. He was going to keep her rules and make sure she was the one who broke them, not him. That way she couldn't be mad at anyone but herself. He was going to do everything he could to make her see how much he loved her and make her realize how much _she_ needed _him. _This time it wasn't going to be him begging for her, but her begging for him_. _He didn't see Violet and him being just friends for long and inwardly grinned at his little plan as he noticed that the sky had drifted from violet to a strange mixture of red and orange as the sun began to rise in the east.

It was the beginning of a new day and the beginning of getting Violet back.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8~**

Hayden was disliked by most of the members in the Murder House, but in times of need she was one who could come up with a scheming plan to get you anything you wanted, under nearly any circumstance.

Tate found her sat in the rocking chair in the basement, painting her fingernails a deep crimson. Her mouth turned up into a crooked smile when she saw him appear by the doorway.

"Come back for more?" she asked playfully, grinning like a Cheshire cat as she swiped the paintbrush across her nail in a smooth fluid movement. "Given up on Violet and need release from a real woman?"

Her voice was deep and provocative, but her words had no effect on Tate. His mouth was pressed into a hard line, his eyes staring at her impassively.

"I need your help with Violet."

"Oh, is that so? And what can I help you with today? A 101 on how to arouse the young girl?"

Tate gritted his teeth at Hayden's cynical remarks and focused on keeping his voice calm. "Not exactly, but you are on the right lines."

Hayden's eyebrow cocked up in an inquisitive gesture. "Oh, really?" She smirked. "Do tell me more."

"I need a plan." He said hesitantly. Tate still wasn't sure whether asking Hayden for a plan was the right thing to do, because with Hayden there was always a catch. She could never do anything out of the kindness of her heart. "Violet wants to be friends, but she has these rules which-"

"Rules?" Hayden interrupted. "Sounds kinky, never knew she was like that."

Tate glared at her. "No, it's not like that. She only wants to be friends, nothing else." He couldn't help but display the irritation he felt and when Hayden paused to look at him, she grinned at his expression.

"Poor little Tate," She drawled, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Still unable to capture the girl's heart? I am disappointed. So, what are these rules then?"

"No romantic involvement and no touching."

"Ha." Hayden laughed. "What a pity for you, they about sum up what you're after. So what are you asking? You want me to help you break the rules?"

"In a way, yes."

Hayden grinned again. "Well you have come to the right place."

Finishing her nails, she placed the bottle of nail varnish on the side, before sliding out of the chair and walking towards Tate slowly. Her legs moved leisurely as if she had all the time in the world, but with each step her hips followed in a swaying motion making the whole gesture seem provocative. Tate, once again, took little notice of her sexual ministrations. He was set on one girl and one girl only. Hayden now held little appeal to him.

"You want her back? To be more than friends?"

"Yes."

"And you are willing to do anything?"

"…Yes," Tate replied hesitantly.

"Hmm," She smirked. "Interesting."

Tate sighed heavily as his eyes locked sharply with her lingering gaze on his body. "Hayden quit the crap and just help me."

Her eyes flashed up to his. "What am I getting out of it?" Her hand came up to his neck and she slowly ran the tip of her nail down, careful not to brush the newly painted varnish onto his skin.

Tate pulled away and stared down at her begrudgingly. "Money."

"Money? And why would I want money, Tate? I'm dead. I can't go out and buy anything."

His lips pursed and he breathed out, irritated. "I'll come up with something." He sighed. "Just help me."

"Please? Manners might help."

"Please."

"Good boy." She walked around him, circling like a predator, but this time instead of her walk being deliberately sensual, it was more of an inspection to see if he was good enough for what he was asking. "But remember you owe me something in turn."

"Okay, fine."

"Let's begin," she said beginning to circle him again. "You can be romantic, yes?"

"Yes."

"Well Violet is a romantic girl who needs to be wooed." Her voice had lost its playful tone and in its place was a harder underlay, one which meant that Hayden was being serious and Tate needed to listen to her speech because once she was done talking, she wouldn't repeat her words again. "Treat her the way you would if you wanted her to believe you are the most romantic person alive. Understood?"

Tate nodded slowly. "How do I do that?"

"Bring her flowers, do things she loves to do even if you hate it, play scrabble and let her win deliberately, cook her a meal, sing her a song, even write her love letters. You need to be the perfect gentleman until she believes you are ready to be more than friends."

Tate listened to her suggestions, nodding his head to show he understood.

"But," She carried on. "You also have to tease her. We need to get her to want you back. There is no point in doing all of these things if she isn't attracted to you sexually. So you will need to include a little seducing in the process."

They both grinned together, a moment of understanding passing between the two as they stood, now face to face.

"Now, here is what you're going to do…"

* * *

><p><em>Sorry that this is such a short chapter, but I honestly ran out of ideas for the next scenes - when Tate begins his scheming;) I said I would have more time to write during these holidays, but now I am having a bit of a block. Hopefully it will pass soon, but if anyone reading has any ideas or suggestions for a scene don't be afraid to drop it in a comment:)<em>

_Next chapter will be longer...hopefully. Thanks for reading._


	9. Chapter 9

**Are you impressed by my quick update? No? Well, I am:) I literally just wrote this on and on all day and then couldn't wait to get it up. This chapter is, in my opinion, one of the most interesting with Tate and Violet. Things are beginning to heat up;) Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9:<strong>

The study, which had been used for Violet's Dad's therapy sessions, was stuffy and humid on this particular hot summers day as she sat reading her book.

It was the start of July and already the hot weather was overbearing and a little too consuming for Violet's liking. The normally chilled room seemed to void of fresh air and only filled with a heat, which surrounded every inch of her skin like a suffocating cocoon. It was as if she was sat in front of an open fire because of the glow of the summer sun through the glassed windows. She could feel the heat of it even though she was sat in the corner of the room, cascaded in the shadowed parts in an attempt to keep cool.

Her copy of Wuthering Heights lay open on her lap, the plastic cover sticking to her clammy thigh as she read. Violet wiped her forehead to remove the beads of sweat producing near her hairline and heaved a puff of irritation as she slammed the book closed, causing a momentarily enjoyable breeze of cooler air from the quick motion. It was too hot to read. She could barely focus on a sentence without feeling like her blood was boiling and she would explode at any second.

Peeling the cover off her thigh, Violet chucked the book onto the couch and laid her head back against the wall. Why did the Murder House never invest in buying any fans?

Getting up quickly she made her way through the house and opened the front door until she was outside on the porch. The front garden was empty and the streets were fairly quiet.

It was immediately cooler outside, but the heat was still stuck admits the air. There was no escaping it.

Bending down so she could lie on the wooden panels of the flooring, Violet closed her eyes and peeled back her skirt up the furthest she could on her thighs. She didn't even care if her underwear was showing; all she wanted was to be cooler.

The birds and buzzing bees created a summery background soundtrack and the aromas of the flowers from the garden filled her nose with a sweet, fresh smell.

"You're looking hot today." A voice said suddenly, jolting her from her peaceful rest.

Tate.

She sat bolt up, pulling at her skirt to bring it down to cover her thighs again, shocked at being caught. Her eyebrows rose at his comment, not sure what he had implied.

Tate caught her expression and smiled slightly. "I mean, you look red. Hot as in heat…"

Her eyes narrowed not believing that his comment had been innocent. "Hmm."

He held a glass of an icy chilled orange drink in his hand, ice cubes filling up the top half.

"Want to know my way of staying cool?" He asked her, sitting crossed legged next to her and taking a slip of his drink.

"What?" Violet asked slowly.

"Lay down," he said.

"Why?'

"Just do it."

"I had been lying down until you came out."

"No, this is different. Just lie down again."

Violet narrowed her eyes again not sure on what he was planning. "You do remember my rules don't you, Tate?"

He blanched, pretending to be shocked. "Of course. How could I forget? Just lay back. Trust me."

Giving him one last look, she shrugged and laid back again, this time keeping her eyes open so she could see when he moved.

"Turn over."

"What?"

"Turn over."

"Tate," she warned shooting him a glare.

"No, this is honestly what I do. Please trust me."

Violet heaved a sigh before rolling onto her front, feeling slightly exposed due to her short skirt. Rolling onto her front already felt cooler, the backs of her legs, which had been stuck to the flooring, felt the cool air hit her skin and she sighed in relief.

"Now, just relax," Tate soothed, his voice dropping as she felt the bottom of her top rise.

"Tate! What are you-? Ahh!" Her words were cut off as she screamed suddenly when she felt something incredibly cold be placed on the skin of back. Her whole body jerked in response and she got ready to push up on her arms, but Tate held her down.

"Calm down. It's only an ice cube," he reassured as her body overcame the shock to the change of temperature and relaxed slightly.

"What the hell! You could have warned me before!" She grumbled slowly lowering herself back down.

"Sorry," he chuckled as he moved the ice cube around on her back. "But I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, well done, you succeeded…"

"Now, just relax."

Tate began moving the ice cube from one side of her back to the other in long, smooth motions, letting the ice leave a trail of cool droplets over her hot skin. Violet had to admit that once she had gotten over the initial shock of the coldness, it was a nice feeling. It worked almost instantly in cooling her down and she sighed in delight as she dropped her head into her arms.

"Feels good?" He asked after a couple of minutes.

"Mmm."

"Good," he chuckled.

The ice cube was beginning to melt in the heat, and Violet felt the droplets beginning to drip their way down off her back and around her sides. It tickled and she wiggled in an attempt to stop the running feeling of the water.

Tate left the nearly melted ice cube in the middle of her back and leant away to reach for another cube from the glass. This time he placed it on her right thigh, causing another jerk from her body, which he grinned maliciously at. He liked to see her wiggle.

Violet jumped again as Tate began to slide another ice cube over her skin, this time over the backs of her thighs, starting on the right and going over to the left. He moved the ice slowly, following the curve of each thigh until he nearly reached the front, before bringing it back over again. She felt goose bumps rise up on her skin from the tingling sensation the ice began to cause and shivered deliciously, feeling both pleasure and a numbing sensation.

It was a weird feeling to have someone run an ice cube over your skin. A feeling Violet had never experienced before, but there was something about it that was enjoyable and slightly…sexual. She couldn't explain it properly, but the coolness of the ice on her hot, sweaty skin felt delicious, like the caress of cool hands on your skin. She shivered due to the temperature of the cube but also to the thoughts her mind had suddenly turned to. Violet couldn't help but imagine that it was Tate's hands running along the back of her thighs in slow, teasing motions, missing the place in between every time. He was so close to crossing the boundaries of her 'rules' but she wasn't sure whether to stop him or not. He wasn't actually touching her, so why should this feel so wrong, yet right at the same time?

Droplets of water began to run down the curves of her thighs, seeping in between her thighs causing her to squeal quietly at the sensation. She wanted to wipe the moisture away, but resisted as Tate continued with his ministrations.

When that ice cube had melted, Violet had gotten so use to the feeling of the ice, that when she felt a pair of hands take place instead, she startled, her head lifting from her arms, to look back at Tate. His hands were cool as he touched the areas of her thighs where he had just been rubbing the ice cubes over.

"What are you doing!?"

"Giving you a massage. You don't want your legs to feel numb, so we need to warm them back up again."

Violet opened her mouth to disagree but the gentle rubbing of his hands felt too good to turn away. Shooting him a warning glare, she laid her head back down, trying to relax her body as he continued.

When his hands moved from her thighs up to raise her top, he lifted it higher than the time before, almost up to her shoulders, putting her bra on show, and she moaned when he rubbed another ice cube over her shoulders. He then massaged the skin, before caressing her shoulders down to her waist. It felt so good, and considering his hands were so cool, it felt that much more enjoyable.

His fingers alternated between rubbing her skin and then letting his fingers trail over her skin slowly, causing Violet to bite her lip to keep herself from moaning. She knew he was doing it deliberately, but every time she thought he was pushing her too far, he stopped and went back to the massage.

Her breath was coming out in short puffs now and the worrying thing was that it wasn't due to the heat anymore. The tension she felt between herself and Tate rose each time he touched her, and Violet had to do everything in order not to keep from groaning out loud.

"Okay, I think that's enough now," Violet breathed, turning over suddenly, before Tate had a chance to remove his hands. His fingers, which had been on her back, brushed the skin of her stomach as she turned, causing her breath to hitch. Violet looked up into his eyes and saw a hint of lust in his depths prior to scrambling back to stand abruptly, thankful to put some space between them.

"That was…enjoyable," she said, avoiding eye contact. "I feel cooler now. Thanks."

"You are most welcome," came his reply in a deep tone.

Violet nodded at him once, moving to walk past him. His hand shot out to clasp her wrist to prevent her escape.

"No touching." Violet said, pulling her arm back, which caused him to laugh.

"You say no touching now? After all that?" He was so close that she could feel the heat of his breath on her face. His brown eyes were dark today, staring deeply into her blue pair.

She glared at him and he grinned before saying, "I'm sorry." But there was no hint of apology in his tone despite his words.

"No, you're not. You done all of that on purpose just to break the rules."

"Well, you seemed perfectly happy to break them too. You never asked me to stop."

Violet opened her mouth to disagree, but she didn't know what to say. "Yeah, well…you tricked me."

"Of course I did," he smirked. His finger came up and ran down her cheek. His fingertip was still cool and left a wet trail of moisture in its path.

Violet shivered and stepped away before anything else happened. "That's enough now Tate. I'll see you another day."

He grinned as he watched her walk off, her top still slightly rolled up at the bottom. Who would have thought she would have caved so easily?


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

* * *

><p>"Wanna play a game?"<p>

"Leave me alone."

"It'll be fun. Come on."

"No. I'm not in the mood."

"Please."

"Fuck off."

"Now, now, don't be mean."

"Tate," his name came out through gritted teeth. "I mean it!"

"I just wanna have a little fun."

"Why!?" All of a sudden Violet turned on her heel, her hair whipping around to frame her face messily.

Lately, he wouldn't leave her alone. After the incident with the ice a week ago, nearly everyday he came looking for her, and today she had had enough of his stupid little games. Every time he asked her to do something, he always ended up pushing her boundaries and turning everything into something sexual. He shot her strange looks, which made her skin crawl. It wasn't freaky, but it made her think he was up to something, and whatever it was, he was enjoying it.

Tate wasn't good at keeping secrets for long, especially from her. She knew him better than she knew anyone else. Even her own parents were harder to read than Tate. He had very expressive eyes and she could tell he was up to something if she looked into them long enough, and recently it nearly always seemed to be that lustful determined look that he had about him. She knew he was up to something and she was tired of him messing with her.

She understood he still cared about her, but she wasn't around just so he could use her for a bit of fun to suit his sexual urges. When they had been together before, it had been romantic, but this time, there seemed to be no romance involved, just simple lust. And Tate didn't suit lust. He was better than that.

"That's all you have been wanting lately and I'm sick of it. Where is the Tate I knew and loved? The one who was kind, considerate and caring? He isn't here anymore. H e has been taken over by some lustful creature who resembles his face."

Tate's mouth opened, shocked. "I…I didn't realize you felt that way. I thought you enjoyed the attention."

Violet scoffed. "God, you make me sound like a slut. I said I wanted to be your friend, Tate. _Friends._ Incase you didn't know that definition then it means no sexual interactions. Remember what I said? Lately all you have been doing is turning anything and everything into something sexual and I'm just not in the mood today. Go play with someone else."

"Violet, come on. You know it's not like that." He moved forward to clasp her hand, his fingers rubbing over her knuckles.

"Don't even try anything," she said pulling her hand away.

"Vi, stop being stupid."

"I'm not the one being stupid! Why can't you be the way you were before?"

Tate shrugged. "People change."

Violet stared at him, her face scowling. "I can't be bothered to deal with you today. _Go away_."

Tate stared at her before the realization of her words hit him. His expression turned from surprised to angry as he disappeared into thin air.

Violet knew it was mean to use it against him, but some days, such as today, it was necessary to just get rid of him.

…

The globe stood on the table, untouched. The sun was shining through her bedroom window, illuminating the vivid azure of the ocean. The countries were coloured in a mixture of shades. Reds, oranges, yellows, greens – each colour representing different countries.

Violet loved and hated the globe. It was an object she found very bittersweet. She loved the idea of travelling, exploring all the countries she had wanted to visit since she was young, but of course, that would never happen now. She was dead, and unwillingly tied to the house, only ever allowed to leave once every year and it wasn't like she could hop on a plane and travel the world overnight. Which is why the globe was eyed with a mixture of envy and fascination.

Her hand reached out hesitantly, almost scared to touch the sphere as if she wasn't allowed. Why should she touch something she would never have the ability to travel? She felt a sense of sorrow, before pushing her misery to one side, and placing her hand on the globe. She pushed it around gently until she reached Australia, the one country she had always wanted to travel to. How sad it was to think that she would never have the chance to go…

A tapping on the door, a brush of knuckles to the wooden surface, indicated a presence. It was Tate, stood with one hand clutching the doorframe, the other shoved deeply into his pocket. His blonde curls, a disheveled mess atop his head, as if he had been running his fingers through them.

Violet sighed, before looking back to the globe, no energy to get rid of him. In fact, his company right now was probably what she needed considering her gloomy mood. She needed company.

"Can I come in?" His voice was light and polite, very different to the one he had voiced earlier.

"Yes," she replied, resuming to turning the globe again.

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking about how depressing my life is."

Tate noticed her hand on the globe. "Ah, the world… Have you ever been to India?"

"No."

"It's beautiful. Really festive."

"Great."

"What about France, you been there?"

"No, Tate."

"China? The landscape and places to visit are amazing th-"

"No." Violet snapped. "I've been practically nowhere!"

"Oh. Sorry…" Tate said, shutting his mouth.

Violet heaved a sigh, turning away from the globe, disgust on her face. "I'm sorry. I just hate it here in this house. To think we will never leave is so…upsetting."

"I know," he replied gently. "I used to think like that too, but I just got used to the fact."

"How? How do you ever get over the fact we won't ever be able to go outside again. Walk outside the gates of this house and into the street?"

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm over it, I have just accepted it."

"I can't do that," Violet replied, shaking her head.

"It will take time. Just time."

"Time," she muttered. "Time is all we have." There was a hint of sadness in her tone, which she tried to cover by softening her voice.

Tate studied her face. Pale skin, tired blue eyes, dirty blonde hair, which looked like she hadn't washed it for a while. She had lost her spark. His eyes widened at the evaluation. She wasn't like the Violet he used to know…but he had been too busy trying to seduce her to even notice. He felt an overwhelming amount of guilt sweep through him. She was clearly hurting and he hadn't even realized.

"Are you okay?" It was the best he could come up with. He didn't know what to say to make the battle she had in her head any better.

Violet didn't reply. She just looked out the window to the world outside. Through her eyes she might as well have been in a prison, locked away from the happiness behind the bars. "I don't know," she finally whispered. "I don't know…"

"Is there anything I can do? I will try to help you, I promise. I know I haven't been myself lately and I'm really sorry, but I will try my hardest to make you hap-" She turned and placed a finger over his lips.

"It's okay. There's nothing you can do." She turned away again, her knees brought up to her chest as she sat beside the globe.

Tate sat back and remained silent, words failing him.

"You know," Violet began. "Time is a funny thing in the murder house."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it doesn't exist really, does it?"

"…I don't understand what you mean?"

She turned to him. "Time doesn't really matter here. No matter what happens, what time it is, everything in here will stay the same. We have no concept of time because we will never age. As the days go on, we will forever remain the same, the same as the day we died."

Tate frowned. "So?"

Violet looked down. "It's sad," she mumbled. "There was so much I wanted to do in life."

"Like what?"

She took a long time in replying and when she looked up her eyes were full of tears, the sight causing Tate to reach out for her, but she pulled away.

"I wanted children you know," she began. "I imagined meeting someone, falling hopelessly in love, and then beginning my own family, watch them grow up and then eventually watch my own children start a life of their own. But now that will never happen," her voice wobbled as she spoke. "I wanted to travel. See the whole world and experience everything that makes it so special, and now I won't be able to." Her eyes couldn't hold the tears building up and they began to overflow.

"Hey, it's okay," Tate soothed.

"No, it's not! Nothing is okay anymore. Nothing. I hate this. I hate my life. I hate it!" Her voice broke and she bent over as she began to cry.

He reached for her and pulled her to him in one smooth motion. Her trembling body did little to restrain and when he pulled her head onto his shoulder she welcomed his warmth with open arms and tucked her head into his neck whilst she cried.

He stroked her head while she wept, letting her cry everything out. He knew she had been bottling things up for too long and now was the time where she had to let go before she could start again. So, he just held her, whispering reassuring words into her ear, rocking her from side to side.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you liked it! College has begun again, which is why this took so long to update. I didn't realise how much art and english I would be given! : I have planned the next chapter already, so it should be up within the next few weeks:)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

"Peter Pan had no idea what he was talking about."

The comment came from Violet. She was laid beside Tate in the bed, one of his arms cuddling her to his side, which she allowed without any restraint.

Her cheeks were still wet from the path of her tears, but her face was more composed now. She stared up at the ceiling as she spoke.

"When she said he never wanted to grow up. I think he was wrong, being young forever isn't as great as he makes it out to be."

Tate smiled sadly, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

They had been lying like this for hours now. Tate had let Violet cry and cry until she had no tears left in her and when she had tired, he brought her to the bed, lying her down with a gentleness that left her warm inside.

This was the Tate she knew and loved. The kind that was gentle and caring, not the crazy or lustful person she thought had overtaken him. He was finally acting normal again, and she smiled from the realization. Even though she was to never age again, she would always have him with her, the same age today, as he ever would be.

These were the days she liked. It seemed as though the release of her bottled up tears were for the better. Her negative thoughts had mostly seeped away and in their placed were ones full of positivity. And it was such a rarity that she had days like these, but when she did, they felt magical.

The room was painted in bright yellows as the sun shone in through the window, to cascade across her walls.

"Let's do something." Tate said suddenly, jolting Violet from her thoughts.

"Alright, what do you have in mind?"

He turned to look at before grinning, "Scrabble."

…

One hour later and they were on their second game. The board was placed on the floor of her bedroom, both of them sat crossed legged, Violet leaning forward to stare intently at the board trying to construct a word that would overthrow Tate.

The first round Tate had easily won. His use of vocabulary still shocked Violet, but she couldn't knock him for his intelligence in the English language. To be honest, it was very impressive how easily he manipulated the words she placed down to fit around his tiles. She would spend ages on her turn, going over the various options she could take until she was certain that the one she laid would earn her most points. Tate on the other hand, took half of her time before laying his tiles with an ease that was so evident in his confident expression.

He was leant back on his hands, eyeing Violet as she contemplated her next move. He had a sparkle in his eyes, which made Violet want to stick her tongue out at him because she knew he knew how good he was. It wasn't that he was cocky or big headed, because he thought it was 'cute' how she took the game so seriously, he had told her so, but she found that being under his watchful gaze was demeaning. It made her feel self-conscious, and she wanted to impress him. Why? She didn't know…

She picked up her tiles, looking at them one last time, before placing them in their rightful position.

"There," she said smiling, happy with herself. "40 points."

"Impressive," Tate nodded, writing her score down on the paper beside his feet. "You're catching up."

"Oh, don't mock me," she said. "You are already one hundred points ahead of me."

He just shrugged his shoulders as if the point held no meaning to him, his eyes now locked onto his tiles. He ran his finger along his lip, looking at the board quickly, before back to his tiles again in contemplation.

He picked up three of his tiles and placed them down using the 'e' off of the word Violet had just created.

"Cute," he said, grinning at her. "Ten points."

Violet's eyes snapped to his. He had done it on purpose.

"You…" She looked at him, then back to the board, before back to him.

"Yes?"

"You done that on purpose!"

"So what if I did?" He shrugged his shoulder before adding to his score.

"You could have earned a lot more points than that. You haven't had a score as low as that for ages!"

"I guess my luck has finally run out."

"Don't play unfairly. Don't deliberately get lower marks."

"I'm not," he defended. "I couldn't lay anything else."

There was a slight smile to his voice, which made Violet narrow her eyes at him. He smiled back at her, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"You're go," he stated, gesturing to the board.

Violet stared at him a couple of seconds longer, before looking down at her tiles.

When she laid her tiles, his lip turned up at the corner, sparking an annoyance in her.

He leant forward immediately, picking up another three tiles and laying them down.

Her eyes followed his fingers intently; curious as to what he was smirking about.

K.I.S.S – He added his three tiles from the end of 'Book' to create his word.

"Ten points," he commented again as he sat back to watch Violet's reaction.

Her eyes locked with his. Her mouth opened, before shutting again.

Tate chuckled; biting his lip after the sound left his mouth. Violet stared at his lips, watching as he wet them.

"Um," she said as she shook her head and tried to form a word from her tiles. She quickly gathered the tiles and placed them on the board.

"Clothes," she said, trying not to watch the way he bit his lip. "Eighteen points."

"Nice," he commented, nodding his head approvingly.

Violet stared at his fingers, watching as they gracefully picked up his tiles and set them down on the board with a gentle and unrushed ease. He placed them underneath her word 'clothes' and she nearly chocked when she read what it said.

S E X

"Err, um…" Violet's breath left her throat as her cheeks began to redden. What was he playing at?

Tate sat back, a smile plastered on his face when he viewed Violets embarrassment.

"Sex," he drawled the word out his mouth, his voice deep and husky as he spoke.

Her mouth fell open, as the tension between them suddenly changed, seeming to suffocate her. She could no longer think properly whilst he was staring at her through a hooded gaze, viewing her in a way that made her shiver.

"Well you win," she declared, abruptly standing up, knocking the board as she went causing the tiles to jumble together in a cluster of letters. "Good game." She turned to leave, but before she reached the door a hand clasped her around the waist and spun her round, pushing her back against the door.

"We weren't finished," he breathed in front of her face, his breath skimming her lips.

Her head moved to the side, trying to resist the temptation of his lips. "It was obvious you won."

"But I still wanted to finish. And now you have ruined the board."

Violet gulped when he forced her to look at him.

"Did I…distract you?" He asked, an evil grin pulling on the edges of his lips.

"No…I don't know what you mean."

"Of course you don't." His hands were beside her head, his arms trapping her in place, a finger reaching forward to brush her hair out of the way of her neck.

Violet's mouth opened as his gaze dropped to her dry lips, his tongue coming out to moisten his own. His dark eyes met hers and he smiled, his head inclining on her neck to place his lips over the pulse of throat to kiss gently.

"Tate," she whispered her hands coming up to try and form a barrier against him, but her fingers seemed to curl into the fabric of his top to pull him closer.

"Mmm," he moaned against her skin, the vibrations shaking through her body.

His hand moved her neck to the side for better access as his lips moved over the skin of her neck quicker, placing more kisses.

Her neck was extremely sensitive, and the mixture of his fingers in her hair, his lips trailing kiss after kiss and the feel of his hot breath on her skin, made her shiver in delight. His short breathy moans only added to the sensations and she couldn't help but let him continue.

His tongue came out to wet her throat before he pulled back to blow cool air over it. She shivered and tried to pull away, but he pushed her back, trapping her in place.

"Don't," he warned, the words sounding more like a growl.

His hands moved down to the waistband of her jeans, tugging on the fabric teasingly. One finger pried open her belt and slipped inside to run over the lining of her knickers.

"Lace," he commented as he felt the small lace lining the edge of her knickers.

Her cheeks coloured at his comment and she felt suddenly shy at his intrusion. She opened her mouth to try and utter a reply but before she could, his fingers moved down to a more sensitive place, causing her to cry out and jolt her hips forward.

Her cheeks burned even more when he laughed.

"Tate, I don't think we should…"

"Shh,' he quieted her. "Don't think, feel."

She shook her head, but then his fingers moved again and she was lost to the powerful sensation he managed to create.

His lips joined her neck again as his fingers moved, sucking on her skin which she knew was likely to leave a prominent mark in the morning.

When his fingers dipped inside her knickers to touch her real flesh she squealed at the feeling, her head trying to keep in charge of the situation and put a stop to it.

"Tate, stop. No, don't- oh, god." His fingers carried on ruthlessly, this time the feeling even more pleasurable without any fabric in the way. The slide of his fingers fueled the pleasure on as he rubbed in and out, making her helpless in his arms.

He pulled her leg up to wrap around her waist for better leverage and she followed, happy to do whatever as long as the movement of his fingers didn't stop.

She pulled on his hair, trying to gain some power in the situation and to simply just have something to hold on to. Her moans began to escalate; her hips had a mind of their own, following the movement of his fingers with ease.

She grinded against his hand, his fingers the only way to seek the pleasure and release she was after. She clutched him to her, her body overcome by pleasure as she moaned out loud, praising his movements which he seemed too skilled at. How was he able to create such a pleasurable feeling within her? She didn't care, as long as he didn't remove his fingers.

When he finally removed his fingers, her body sagged downwards, his arms stopping the fall before she crashed to the floor.

Her head laid back against the wall, her mouth open as she tried to catch her breathe.

He pulled her head down and placed one long, lingering kiss, his tongue skimming along her lip.

"Glad the ending of our game satisfied you," he winked, pulling up her jeans to fasten them again.

She could only stare at him in shock as he turned away to return to their game of scrabble, the tiles still one jumbled mess in the middle of the room.

* * *

><p><strong>Once again, sorry about the long wait. I hope this chapter made up for it;)<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

She couldn't sleep. It was night like these when she lay wide-awake, tossing and turning, that her thoughts turned to Tate. They normally succumbed to him in some way. Whether it was due to a comment he had said once before that stuck in her mind, or a song he had played out loud in the attic that echoed down to her room, she always thought of him eventually.

He was like a drug; one of those addictive and consuming ones. The kind that you craved if you went too long without. Something you just couldn't resist. She had tried to withstand from him, but as everyone could see, she just couldn't stay away or forget the feelings she had for him. And of course, like a drug, once she'd had a good taste of him, she couldn't get him out of her mind. Which was why on this moonlit Wednesday evening, she laid awake, screwing up her fists in aggravation.

She couldn't stop thinking about the night before. The scrabble game had gotten out of hand, and the worst part of it was that she enjoyed it.

Violet turned her head into her pillow and smothered her face in the fabric. She wanted to scream from the mixture of emotions she felt. Why couldn't she just forget him? Forget the way his fingers had felt upon her body. The feel of his lips brushing her neck. The warmth of his breath on her skin. She shivered at the memory and turned back over again to try and slow her breathing. Just the mere thought of him was driving her up the wall.

…

When sunlight hit her bedroom window very early the next morning, she gave up on the idea of sleeping and pulled back her covers, which were half falling onto the floor in a disregarded fashion. She stretched and quickly changed into proper clothes before beginning to brush her hair.

When she turned to exit the room she noticed a small piece of paper folded in half lying beside the door. She frowned and retrieved the note, her fingers itching with curiosity to open it. It read -

_Out of all the words I have trouble saying,_

_There are three that mean the most,_

_They make my heart sing when I think of them and what it would mean to tell you_

_But those are the ones I have trouble saying._

_When your eyes lock with mine, I have no worries to contain_

_You make me feel alive again and I don't want that feeling to ever drift away_

_There is no better way to express how I feel for you,_

_So I will write it plainly on this note so you can see_

_Even though this paper is old and thin_

_I hope it doesn't alter the meaning of my words_

_I love you_

Tate had written her a poem? He wasn't a poet, that was for sure, but the thought of him sitting up and specifically crafting a poem together made her smile. Her heart fluttered in adoration, her eyes skimming over his words to hang onto their meaning. The paper was brown, as if it had been worn away over time, and the smell of it gave her a sentimental feeling. She smiled as she re-read the last sentence. Those three words he had never properly expressed to her before. He had said them, but never with as much meaning behind them. The only thing she could have asked for was for him to be able to speak them meaningfully to her face.

At the bottom of the page, scrawled in his handwriting was a little message.

**I'm sorry if what I done yesterday overwhelmed you, but I can't hold back any longer. Neither do I want to. I hope you realise how I really feel.**

**I'll be waiting.**

So there were parts of him that were romantic after all. Not just the lust filled creature she had to encounter over the past week. But what did he mean when he said, 'I'll be waiting'? It sounded a bit threatening in her opinion, but she shrugged it off, not wanting to loose the romantic atmosphere he had set.

Violet bit her lip as she tried to stop the big grin that was plastered on her face. The feeling she got from the letter made her feel so warm and alive again.

Placing the brown paper on the table beside her bed, she opened the door to go and find him.

'Tate?' She shouted down the hallway, hearing her voice echo throughout the quiet house.

There was no reply.

Instead, when she looked down, she saw a red love heart made from paper. She picked it up, curious again.

Trails of red paper hearts were littered all over the hallway landing, leading down to the stairs. She smiled, a small giggle escaping her in delight. Could he really be this sweet? Was this how he apologized for last night?

She attentively followed the paper hearts down the stairs, out of the front door.

The trail led her onto the grass, precisely right in the middle where the last paper heart was placed. She bent down to pick up the last one. Her name was written on this one.

When she stood back up, a hand clamped gently over her eyes. A voice at her ear tenderly whispered, 'Come with me...'

**...**

**Sorry if the ending is a bit abrupt, but I felt like you all needed an update. I'm so sorry about the delay.**

**I hope you have all had a wonderful Christmas.**

**The next chapter will be up some time after the new year:)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:**

Tate brought her to a secluded part of the back of garden, which was by a cluster of trees, the leaves enabling them a sheltered area from the sun. On the ground laid a knitted rug, a brown-hatched basket on top.

'A picnic?' Violet asked as they approached.

'I wanted to try and make this special. Is this…is it okay?' He looked to her hesitantly.

'Of course. It's a very sweet idea, Tate.'

'I didn't know what your favourite foods were,' he said kneeling down on the rug and opening the basket. 'So I kind of done a bit of everything I could find.'

Violet leaned over to peek into the basket. It was full of a variety of foods, ranging from the healthier options such as strawberries, blueberries and pineapple; to sandwiches, chocolate bars and mini cupcakes all covered in frosted icing.

'You made all of this?' Violet stared in disbelief at the array of food.

Tate shrugged dismissively as if it wasn't a big deal, still a smile was held on his face. 'Well, I might have had a bit of help from Moira, but on the whole, yeah.'

'Impressive.'

'Here,' he said reaching into the basket to pull out a plateful of sandwiches. 'I made ham, cheese and tomato, chicken and some ordinary bread and butter sandwiches incase you didn't like anything.'

Violet gawped at the plate. There were enough sandwiches to feed six let alone two!

'I'll just have a ham,' she smiled, picking up one sandwich.

He smiled and chose his own sandwich before leaning back on one arm.

'Don't you think you've gone a bit overboard?' Violet asked as they ate.

'What do you mean?'

'I don't know whether you have noticed, but there is only two of us and judging by the amount of food in that basket I would think you're inviting the whole house to join us.'

Tate laughed and shook his head, 'Moira did tell me that, but I wanted to make sure you had options. It's one of the worst things being prepared a meal by someone and you don't actually like any of the food. I wanted to try and make this perfect.'

Violet smiled at him. 'You know, sometimes I wonder how you can be so sweet some days and so…different the next.'

Tate looked down, not sure how to answer.

'Don't take it the wrong way because I like this Tate. I much prefer this person who is here with me right now than the sex driven person you were before.'

'I'm sorry. I…I didn't know what I was thinking before. I thought that was the best thing to do.'

'Well, you know now that it isn't.'

'You can't say you didn't enjoy it.'

Violet's mouth opened to dispute his comment, but she didn't know what to say. She didn't want to lie. 'I…'

'You know you enjoyed it. There's a part of you that prefers this side of me and another part which much prefers the Tate you saw last night.'

Violet shook her head, picking at the crust on the sandwich so she had something to focus on rather than his pressing eyes.

'Admit it, Violet. Or will I have to make you?'

The words sounded ominous and Violet looked up in surprise, only to find that there was a playful tinge to his eyes. Her own narrowed, trying to work out if he was serious or not.

Tate laughed at her expression an bit into his sandwich, 'I'm only joking,' he chuckled between bites.

Violet stared at him as he looked up at the trees, watching the birds, incredulous that his moods changed so quickly.

'Want a drink?' He asked picking out a bottle of water from the basket. 'Now the drinks, I'm sorry to say, are not impressive at all.' He placed a plain water bottle down on the ground and screwed his nose up. 'But after all the preparing of the food I didn't think a drink was as big of a deal.'

Violet laughed and reached for the water. 'It's perfectly fine,' she assured, taking a long sip.

…

'You won't believe how much mess I got in when making these cakes!' Tate exclaimed as they lay side by side, their faces shadowed by the trees, the sun hitting their bodies, a cupcake held in each of their hands.

'I can only imagine,' Violet laughed as she peeled back the case.

The frosting was a turquoise colour, a perfect mix of blue and green. The sponge was still slightly warm as Violet took her first bite and hummed in appreciation.

'You should bake more,' she declared swallowing the soft sponge, licking the cream of the frosting from her top lip. 'This is too good.'

'I was surprised when they were a success. As you can see,' he said motioning to the one he held in his hand, 'this cupcake was my first attempt.'

Tate's cupcake wasn't a total disaster, but the way the frosting drooped down the edges messily and the cake has risen just a fraction to high and wide made it look poor in effort compared to Violet's.

She laughed as she took another bite, 'Well it's better than I could have ever done.'

Tate looked over at Violet; her eyes were closed as she ate, her tongue coming out to skim over the frosting before she took another bite. She held the cupcake in front of her face as she chewed it, the frosting close to her lips.

Sitting up silently and leaning in until he was poised over her, he jerked her elbow up, the cupcake colliding with the tip of her nose. Violet's eyes shot open at the sudden movement, a surprised noise leaving her mouth as she saw a laughing Tate above her. Her brows furrowed instantly as she felt the smear of frosting on her nose.

'What the hell was that for, you idiot!' she yelled as she pushed Tate away from her so she could sit up and put the rest of her cake down.

Tate's laughter only seemed to continue more as she searched for a napkin, his chuckles beginning to irk her.

'Fine, if you want to play it that way.' Picking up the half of her cake, which was left, she put bit on her finger before wiping a line of the frosting across his cheek.

His laughter halted abruptly as he blinked, registering what she had just done. He laughed again when the shock subsided and he saw the look of smugness on Violet's face. 'You look so victorious. That was so close to my eye!' he stated beginning to wipe his face.

'Serves you right,' she smiled, her arms crossed in content.

The frosting was still on the edge of her nose and he thought she looked adorable. Her hair was slightly ruffled from where she had been lying down, frosting on her nose and slightly around her lips, and her mouth was up in a small grin.

'You're going to get it now!' He proclaimed jumping up and grabbing her around the waist to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder. Violet screamed at the sudden movement as the world turned upside down and she gripped Tate tight around the waist.

'Put me down Tate! Ahh. Put me down!' Despite her desperate pleas she couldn't help but laugh at his childish behavior. This was the most fun she had had in a while.

He laughed as he spun her around, his grip secure on her legs.

When he placed her back down on the rug she thumped him hard on the shoulder.

'Idiot! Are you trying to kill me?'

'Nope, looks like you done that already yourself.' He laughed at his own joke while Violet shook her head, a small smile trying to break out on her face.

She picked up the remained of her cupcake and smeared the rest across his right cheek in one fluid motion before he could get out of the way.

'Oy!' Tate's mouth opened in indignation at her movement, shocked. 'I only wiped a bit on you.'

Violet laughed at his shocked expression watching as he tried to wipe the frosting off.

'It's sticky. You've got some on my top.'

'Sorry, but you started it,' she winked.

'It's so sticky!' He groaned. 'I only showered this morning.'

Violet watched as he rummaged through the basket, finding a napkin and trying to wipe at his face. She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing more, but then felt slightly guilty considering the amount he had covering his face compared to hers.

'Here let me help,' she offered, raising her finger and running it down his face and through the frosting and then on the napkin.

Tate done the same, but instead of wiping it on the napkin he looked up at her and smeared a line down her face.

'Now we're even,' he grinned.

The frosting took longer to get off than Violet expected, but by the time his face was practically clear, hers was still sticky.

Tate leant forward just like she had done to help him, but moved a lot closer to her face. Violet tried to sit back from him but his hand had moved up to her neck to keep her still.

'Keep still, let me get this off for you.'

He lifted the napkin to wipe at her cheek, but the frosting had dried and some still stuck to her face.

His face was so close to hers that she didn't know where to look. His breath was hitting her lips every time he breathed out and she couldn't help but focus on his lips. They were opened as he concentrated, her own began falling open as she remembered what he had done with those same lips the night before. She shivered and he looked at her eyes, noticing that she wasn't breathing easily like he was. Her breathing had increased, her breaths short and shallow. He grinned when he noticed her gaze on his lips as if he knew what she was thinking.

'It's dried,' he commented.

'Mmm.' Violet replied, the frosting no longer an issue.

Tate stared at her, she stared back and just as he moved forward for what looked like a kiss, he moved up to where the frosting was and licked.

Violet sucked in a breath and gasped at the feel of his tongue on her skin.

'It tastes even better on your skin,' he commented hotly, his breath beside her ear.

Her hand had come up to grip his shoulder as his tongue darted out again to lick more of the dried frosting. His tongue was pleasantly cool on her skin in the sunlight and she titled her head back to give him better access.

His lips moved across her cheek, down to the corner of her mouth where they hovered, teasing, before sliding back up to her ear.

'Tate, she whispered when he sucked on her earlobe.

He left small pecks all over her check, each kiss longer than the last. His breath was hot on her skin and she sighed when he moved down to kiss her neck.

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all…

* * *

><p>Now I do realise this is probably one of the most annoying places to stop, but I had written lots and couldn't decide how I wanted the rest of this chapter to pan out. I hope you enjoyed this little scene. Sorry for the slow update, but I've been off school today so I decided to catch up with this story. I am beginning the ending might be in sight...not sure.<p>

:)


End file.
